


Reclaiming The Heart

by Aurlana



Series: Alistair Appreciation Week Submissions 2017 [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Grey Wardens, Making Up, Requited Love, Romance, eventual happily ever after, partial non/con due to sleepy time interludes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 29
Words: 52,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6759352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurlana/pseuds/Aurlana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you do when you shove the man you love out the door for his own good?<br/>You chase after him of course! And only hope that perhaps, things can be made right in the end. </p><p>I was heartbroken when Alistair left the Landsmeet, after I agreed to make Loghain a Warden. Though the achievement was granted, it left a pit in my stomach that needed resolve. Here is my story of how our lovely Female, Elven Warden reclaimed her heart!</p><p>This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. <br/>It's been reformatted and lightly edited for Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)<br/>For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Connie_flint_125](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Connie_flint_125/gifts).



> Though this story came about to fill a hole in my own heart at the end of Dragon Age: Origins. I could never have produced something ready for human/elven/dwarven consumption without the help of Connie_Flint_125! If you haven't read her Dragon Age Trilogy, you are seriously missing out! 
> 
> This first chapter may seem very tame, but stick around - things will definitely be getting steamy in the future. 
> 
> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you do when you shove the man you love out the door for his own good?  
> You chase after him of course! And only hope that perhaps, things can be made right in the end.
> 
> I was heartbroken when Alistair left the Landsmeet, after I agreed to make Loghain a Warden. Though the achievement was granted, it left a pit in my stomach that needed resolve. Here is my story of how our lovely Female, Elven Warden reclaimed her heart!
> 
> **This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16.  
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though this story came about to fill a hole in my own heart at the end of Dragon Age: Origins. I could never have produced something ready for human/elven/dwarven consumption without the help of Connie_Flint_125! If you haven't read her Dragon Age Trilogy, you are seriously missing out!
> 
> This first chapter may seem very tame, but stick around - things will definitely be getting steamy in the future.
> 
> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

**~Prologue~**

* * *

 

The Archdemon was slain and Lyna couldn’t wait to get away; but, there was still much for her to do. There were ceremonies that she was expected to attend, a new title; _Hero of Ferelden_ was given to her--as if she didn’t have enough on her shoulders. And worst of all, people wanting to thank her--to _worship_ the elf that saved all of Ferelden from the Blight. Delay after delay, pomp and ceremony; of which she cared little about. It all bristled. Did she not sacrifice enough already? Her clan, Tamlen, Duncan, and now Alistair. She’d already waited too long, he had a huge head start. She needed to find him, to right what she wronged--to explain why. He deserved at least that.

 

Would she do it again? Absolutely! Especially if it meant saving his life and knowing that the man she loved didn’t have to die. She would do it in a heartbeat. Her unhappiness was more than an adequate price to pay for his continued life. This world would be such a desolate place without his light hearted wit, tender honey-brown eyes, and his sweet, hesitant smile to brighten it and give it life.  

 

He’d left so hurt and angry. The things she said, the things she had to do to drive him away; they were unforgivable. Yet, she needed to try to explain. Maybe he would understand; she doubted it. She didn't deserve it. But she owed it to Alistair to at least tell him the truth behind her behavior.

 

What exactly was the truth? That she, the brave and mighty, _Hero of Ferelden_ , was so petrified of losing him, that she was willing to sacrifice her own happiness so that he would live on. She knew, should he fight, that he would sacrifice himself for the _greater good._ He would do it without thought or hesitation, because that’s just how he was. Selfless. He would never let her take that final blow. Maybe he would have understood her plan to sacrifice Loghain, but he would never have agreed to it. Why make more of a hero of the man that took so much from them for so long? Alistair never would have fought beside Loghain.

 

In truth, it wasn’t easy for her either.

 

She shuddered to remember his leering gaze. Always feeling like he was weighing and measuring her every decision. Never really trusting, but resigned to his fate to once again follow when he was used to leading. She felt _unclean_ in his presence, like his personal _taint_ was far worse than the darkspawn blood flowing through their veins. Yet, it was the only way. Having to deal with this vile man, was a small price to pay to save the life of the man she loved.  

 

Loghain was gone now, having played the part that she so skillfully orchestrated; making him sacrifice himself by delivering the killing blow against that blighted dragon. The Archdemon’s soul--not able to coexist in the same body as the Warden’s--destroyed them both effectively ending the blight.

 

No longer needing to traipse all over in a desperate bid to save Thedas, it was time now for Lyna to pick up the pieces. To find Alistair and apologize for the grief that she caused him. To explain herself and hopefully salvage some of the respect--if not love-- that he once held for her.

 

To start over; if he was willing.

 


	2. The End...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for  
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**  
> 

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

**The End** **…**

* * *

The celebration was grueling. Having to force a smile as one Teyrn after another came by to thank her, compliment her, and one even had the audacity to ask for her hand in marriage. He offered her a ‘better’ life: a place at court, to wear pretty dresses, and talk about worriless things. To an elf, these things were all unheard of. A mistress maybe, but never a title, land, or wealth of her own. He offered to take care of her. _Ha!_ As if _she_ needed coddling and pampering. It would have been funny, if it wasn’t so desperate and pathetic. An obvious attempt to increase his own standing in the court. A political maneuver, nothing more.  

 

How impractical and absurd such frivolous things were. She wasn’t a player of ‘the great game’ and had no interest in anything so superficial and tedious. She declined politely with explanations of ‘duty’ and a reminder that she would be leaving to travel at first light. He refused her offer to join her on the road--to get better acquainted--as she knew he would.

 

The prospect of sleeping out of doors would have been unthinkable to this clean and proper young Teyrn. The only sword he ever held was ceremonial, at best. It might be functional enough for slicing cheese; very… soft… cheeses. But it would probably shatter should it come in contact with anything harder or, creators forbid, needed in actual battle. The whole concept of her being with him, was comical.

 

Finally, the last guest said their farewells and Lyna was free to retire to her room. It wasn’t sleep that she sought however, it was the last minute preparations for her journey that were calling to her.  First and foremost, she needed out of her _formal_ Grey Warden uniform. It was too constricting, too impractical, and definitely too _fancy_ for her liking. She was ready to put that life behind her--for now--with more pressing matters to attend to.  

 

At the awards ceremony, Queen Anora asked Lyna what it was that she wanted as a reward for her service. She _could_ have chosen to stay and serve the crown; Lyna scoffed to herself at the prospect. Working with Anora’s father was bad enough, and though she believed Anora to be a competent leader, she had no desire to work with the woman.

 

She _could_ have chosen to return to her clan, but she’d changed so much over the past year, Lyna didn’t think she would fit in anymore. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to try. There were also the options of rebuilding the Grey Wardens or taking some time to herself to continue her own adventures for awhile. Both of these were acceptable, but one needed to happen before the other. In the end, she opted to travel on her own with the possibility of returning to the Wardens later. She was tied to them after all, the taint in her blood ensured she would _always_ return to them, or at the very least, return to the Deep Roads to answer her calling because of them.  

 

As she made her way toward her quarters, Lyna grasped the small, leather pouch she kept around her neck and whispered a small prayer to the Creators, “Please watch over him and keep him safe. He’s had a rough, lonely journey in life and doesn’t deserve this torment I’ve caused him.” She released her pouch with her prayer and thought of the three treasures she kept tucked within. The largest item was her Warden’s Oath; a reminder of her own promise and sacrifice to the Grey Wardens. It was a small vial that contained some of the blood of the darkspawn that she consumed on the day of her joining.  

 

She smiled remembering the look of relief on Alistair’s face when she woke after the ritual. He’d been leaning over her with his brow furrowed and held her hand firmly in his. His look turned to one of relief, then embarrassment as he realized that she was looking at him and he was still clasping her hand so tightly. He’d stumbled over a hasty apology while tearing his hand from hers, a flush rising to his cheeks. He’d smiled sheepishly at her and she smiled back. She remembered his warmth lingering on her skin, a whisper of the memory of his touch, and the dawning knowledge that it would never be enough. She was comforted in the realization that she wouldn’t have to endure this new and unfamiliar life alone.  

 

Her pouch also contained what was left of the rose that Alistair gave her after their trip through Lothering. He seemed so nervous and unsure at the time, but also determined for her to see how special she was to him. He described his wonder about the rose that he found, _“How could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness?”_ And in all his sweet sincerity, compared her to that rose, _“In a lot of ways, I think the same thing, when I look at you… I th_ _ought maybe I could say something, tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amongst all this... darkness._ _”_ Lyna always wondered what she’d ever done to deserve someone so thoughtful and caring as her Alistair. The rose had long since lost its velvety softness and scent, but its sentiment was as strong as ever.  

 

Finally, in her pouch, she kept a memento from her mabari, Pup. He found her after the battle at Ostagar and remained always at her side, her devoted little shadow. Pup was her comfort when she sent Alistair away, her ever present companion, that is; until the battle with the Archdemon. Pup fell in that battle, taking a piece of her heart with him. Though he was given a warrior’s sendoff, Lyna couldn’t bear to part with all of him. She recovered one of his teeth from the Archdemon’s flank after the battle. She cleaned it up and added it to the items in the pouch that she kept close to her heart. Those three objects were with her at all times. There to keep her grounded, to remind her of who she was and the parts of her that she must never forget or take for granted: duty, love, and devotion.  She’d performed her duty and would always be devoted to her cause, but right now, her heart… her love, was far away and that needed to be remedied.  

 

 


	3. A New Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for  
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**  
> 

 

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

 

**A New Beginning**

* * *

 

Once in her room, Lyna stripped down to her cotton shift. Now free from the confines and the weight that uniform held--both physical and mental--she began to pack the necessities that she would be taking with her. She gathered her bow for hunting, her bedroll, wool cloak, sharpening stone, flint and steel, and a few potions. She also added some personal essentials, all wrapped into her oiled canvas pack which could be opened up to use as a tent should she need extra protection from inclement weather. This _was_ Ferelden after all, and though her travels were likely to take her out of the country trying to track down Alistair, she planned on trying to find any traces of him locally first; and the weather here could be a bit _unpredictable_.  

 

With all of her belongings neatly packed, organized, and ready to go, Lyna finally allowed herself to lay down and get some rest. It was a fitful night spent tossing and turning. There were no more dreams of the Archdemon, but the nightmares came none-the-less. By the time the pre-dawn grey finally arrived, she was more than grateful to get up and start her day.

 

Lyna rose and slipped into her supple brown, leather pants, traveling boots, and nondescript, protective armor; well-worn from her travels, it was like putting on a second skin. They were clean, comfortable, and as much a part of her as the many blades that she kept finely honed and on her person at all times. Some of those blades were visible, but many others were hidden from site. She kept her favorite two silverite daggers on her back, a blade sheathed at each thigh, and there was also a utility knife displayed at her waist. What most people didn’t see were the daggers she kept inside each boot, another inside each bracer--which could be easily thrust into her hands in a blink of an eye--one tucked into its hidden sheath between her shoulder blades, and numerous throwing blades tucked into the inside of her belt. Lyna didn’t like being unprepared.  

 

Once fully armed, she gave herself a quick once over in the mirror. She looked tired--she _felt_ tired--so that was no surprise. Her once bright, sea-green eyes, now had a dullness to them. Though she could force a smile to her lips, it refused to touch her eyes. A part of her was missing. With a sigh, she tied her velvety brown hair back into its usual tail using a leather strip. She fixed the straggling hairs, that stubbornly refused to stay back, into a delicate frame around her bronze face.   

 

She donned her grey-green, wool cloak--making sure she had easy access to her blades--then hoisted her pack onto her shoulders, and with a final glance around the room, bid this life farewell.  

 

As she walked quietly through the hall in her soft leather boots, a familiar figure fell silently into step beside her. She didn’t have to look to know the feel of the presence at her side. Slightly taller than herself, blond hair, blades to match her own, his vallaslin differing from hers in shape and color but marking him as she was, of Dalish origin.

 

Though their stories were very different, their backgrounds worlds apart, she had come to trust the assassin at her side. They were of like minds with similar skill sets and driving desires, so It came as no surprise to Lyna to find him at her side now. Even though she hadn’t discussed her plans with any of her companions, Zevran was usually able to anticipate what she was going to do before she even decided to do it.

 

That didn’t mean she had to like it.

 

“Good morning, Zev,” Lyna said shortly as she continued on her present course.

 

He nodded once in acknowledgement with that insufferable smirk on his face and continued to walk with her in companionable silence. Once they reached the kitchen, they both grabbed sacks and began filling them with bread, fruit, cheese, and salted meat. Lyna finally stopped and looked at him. “What are you doing, Zevran?” There was a hardness in her voice that she didn’t try to hide.  

 

Adding another apple to his sack, he said lightly in his sultry Antivan accent. “I would think that it was obvious. Did you take a blow to the head that made you unfamiliar with the act of acquiring provisions for a journey?” He paused and looked her up and down. “No, no. Your beautiful head looks fine. You also seem well aware of the process as you appear to be doing precisely the same thing, perhaps I am mistaken, No?” He grinned at her then, “Or… have you finally come to your senses and are planning on sweeping me off my feet for a romantic interlude somewhere?” He winked at her in teasing, but his attempt at levity was lost on Lyna this morning.

 

Her shoulders slumped slightly, “I can’t let you do that Zev. You do know where I’m going don’t you? I can’t ask you to come with me while I chase after Alistair. It’s not fair to you. It’s not fair to him.” She sighed deeply. “But I have to find him. I _need_ to try to explain, to make things right. He didn’t deserve how I treated him, to be pushed away like that, but it was the only way…” Lyna trailed off as she realized that she was on the verge of tears.  

 

Serious, for once, Zevran took both of her hands in his and placed a delicate kiss on each of her palms, “This is why I am coming with you. I am at your command or at your _service_ should the desire strike.” The last was said with a wink and she rolled her eyes at their old game.  

 

His smile softened, “But more than anything, I am your friend, Lyna. I don’t have many of those. I would not let you face the darkspawn alone, nor will I allow you to face your broken heart without me there to guard your back. You think I didn’t see how deftly you moved all of your pieces into place? The bards in Orlais couldn’t have played a better game than you did. I was very proud of you, by the way. And you know what? It worked! We won! We saved the day and live to love and fight again. So let us stop wasting the light. We have an awkwardly naive, witty, doesn’t deserve you, delicious, Alistair to track down.”

 

Lyna couldn’t help but smile at Zevran's thinly veiled compliment. She sighed inwardly, making her decision, then hugged him tightly with one arm. “Thanks Zev. I would be glad to have your company, but please, keep your _services_ to yourself!” She said the last with a wink of her own, then pulled back from the embrace to reveal that she had one of her knives pointed at his crotch for emphasis.

 

He gulped audibly and raised one eyebrow, but didn’t lose that cocky grin.

 

She tapped his thigh once with the flat of her blade for emphasis before sheathing her weapon back into its hiding spot.  

 

He chuckled, “I should never have shown you that trick *mia amata. Shall we proceed then? We are burning daylight and your Alistair awaits.”  

 

They finished their preparations, like they’ve done, a thousand times before, an unspoken dance of familiarity: silent, comfortable, automatic. They then slipped out through the servant’s entrance to draw as little attention to themselves as possible.  

 

~*~

 

Once Lyna and Zevran were beyond the gates of Denerim, they made good time. They kept a steady pace, rising before dawn and only stopping once the sun was long down to make camp for the night. Usually eating their cold provisions on the road, they would occasionally spot an unsuspecting beast that would become fresh meat over a midday fire. It was a familiar routine that they both fell easily back into.

 

Mornings were always the same; whomever had the final watch would douse the fire’s remaining embers and rouse the other. Together they would pack up in silence, then spend the remaining time between the sky’s first light until the full circle of the sun crested over the horizon, in practical combat training. This they would vary to keep fresh on all of their abilities. One day they would practice sparring with daggers; another would find them with a long sword in their main hand and a dagger in their offhand. Still another morning would have them fighting with no weapons at all or working purely on defensive maneuvers. These training sessions were exactly what Lyna needed to shake the last of the nightmares from her head. Every night she was so exhausted from her day of travel and exertion that she fell unconscious almost as soon as she lay on her bedroll. But it was never a restful sleep, she would toss and turn all night, her dreams growing progressively worse.

 

During the blight, Lyna became used to her nightmares and became adept at tuning them out so she could find that much needed rest. Even with the Archdemon singing its siren's song, she was still able to manage a few hours of sleep each night. These dreams however, were very different. This was her own conscience getting back at her. Her penance--if you will.

 

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the sadness and hurt in Alistair’s. When she chose Anora and Loghain over him; she felt his surprise, his anguish--and finally--his anger at her. Always waking with a choked sob, she would clutch the leather pouch around her neck and focus on her breath. She knew in her heart that she deserved this pain. Everything she felt was a direct consequence of her actions. Knowing these things, didn’t make them any easier for her to endure.  

 

The training sessions were her way of fighting off the demons in her dreams and Zevran was only too happy to oblige. True to his word, he had her back and she was increasingly thankful for his friendship. He kept her so busy that she was occasionally able to forget her heart strings pulling, at least for a while.

 

He could read what she needed before she even knew what that was. Sometimes, he would talk about everything and nothing in particular; mindless banter to tune out her guilt and sadness, a constant babble to lighten her mood when it turned dark. He also offered her companionable silence when she needed that too and the mornings offered her opportunities to hone her skills.

 

Though his lighthearted banter occasionally carried _lurid_ undertones, he stayed true to his word and kept his hands to himself. If she didn’t know him better, she would have called him a gentleman, but this was Zev. Though he failed at his attempt to kill her, he was a master assassin, raised in an Antivan whorehouse. His mind--anything but pure. Yet, for the moment, he was there for Lyna and for that she was grateful.

 

*Mia Amata = My Loved one


	4. A Lucky Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

 

**A Lucky Encounter**

* * *

 

Together they followed rumors and what they knew about Alistair to track him down. At first they heard a few whispers from people who could attest to seeing someone matching Alistair’s description just outside of Denerim. But soon, that faint breadcrumb of a trail stopped.

 

They spent months traveling from South Reach to what was left of Lothering; Redcliff to the ruins of Honnleath; up to Orzammar and back around the north end of Lake Calenhad to the shores near Kinloch Hold. Most locations were dead ends. He simply vanished off the face of Thedas. Perhaps he’d picked up more of her sneakier habits than she originally thought.

 

_Maybe I need to redirect my tactics._

 

Lyna and Zevran decided to book a room for a few days at the Spoiled Princess by the docks at Lake Calenhad; to give themselves a break from sleeping on the ground. Lyna wanted a hot bath, a meal not cooked over a campfire, and to think about where they were going to look next. They’d exhausted their options in Ferelden, it was time to venture outside the country’s borders, but first they needed to mull over their options.

 

As they sat over their warm stew and fresh bread on the second night at the inn, the pair noticed four mercenaries come through the door, grumbling and bantering with each other. The group shook off the rain from the most recent storm, looked around the room, then approached the barkeep and ordered a round of drinks. They were crass and loud and looked like men who’d been on the road for quite a while.

 

Lyna and Zevran shared a look while they sat quietly, nursing their meal, and listening for any news the newcomers might have brought with them. Some of their most promising leads, came about this way. Tonight proved to be no disappointment.

 

To some, it might have seemed an odd group to be keeping company together. There were two humans: one fairly seasoned with short black hair and dark chocolaty skin, the other looked too pretty to have seen many battles. The ease in which he maneuvered with his weapons strapped to his body though, contradicted the smooth, untarnished skin of his face. This gave Lyna pause that perhaps this handsome young man was more than he seemed. His complexion was not as dark as his human companion. It was more akin to coffee with cream and just as smooth with his silky brown hair trimmed neat and tidy to complement it. He was from Tevinter--if Lyna were to wager a guess--and she was usually pretty good about such things.

 

The two humans were accompanied by a stout dwarf that kept his hood up, so there wasn’t much Lyna could glean about him yet. His only discerning feature was a large dark mustache on his lip. The crew was led by a very large Qunari with a black patch covering his left eye and a large battle axe strapped to his back. He was boisterous and loud as he directed his crew to a nearby table, his hands moving fluently in conjunction to the words leaving his mouth. The horns on his head stood out and proud, only adding to the intimidating demeanor that his scar-marked face portrayed.

 

To Lyna, this mixed group was not so unusual. In fact, it reminded her of her own recent travels with dear friends. They were--at once--both happier, yet more frantic times. She reflected on the Qunari she’d traveled with and smiled at the memory of how stoic and serious Sten seemed in comparison to this more animated example of Qunari muscle.

 

The mercenaries were gruff and pushy, almost playful with one another. They seemed to be grousing about everything: the condition of the road, the intermittent rain, someone had a rash that wouldn’t clear up, with a fair amount of ‘I told you so’s’ to go with it. They grew more disgruntled as they recanted their most recent job in Kirkwall, mumbling something about a local Lord that refused to give them their full pay. Lyna rolled her eyes. None of this blather was giving her any clues about Alistair.  

 

As she continued to listen, she heard the group continue to pick on each other. They seemed to delight in poking fun at one another’s shortcomings as if it made their whole plight that much easier to deal with. She heard them laugh about a serving girl that the pretty Tevinter tried to pick up on. It seemed like he regularly failed at his attempts at romance. There was a fair amount of teasing on how he needed to better choose who he decided to hit on and when to take _no_ for an answer.

 

Lyna was about to give up on the group as their conversation grew quieter and more relaxed. Before she turned from them completely, she picked up on the words; ‘drunk’ and ‘Warden’ which immediately piqued her interest. They were still discussing the barmaid, Norah and the pretty Tevinter. It sounded like the serving girl, had been vehemently refusing the mercenary’s advances when he grabbed her arm as she tried to walk away.

 

Listening closer, Lyna learned that upon even louder protests and a brief scuffle, an unlikely hero came to the girl’s rescue. The mercenary in question, looked miserable at his companions jabs and taunts, laughing yet trying to hide his embarrassment in his mug of ale.

 

“You let someone too drunk to stand up straight wipe the floor with you!” The dwarf suddenly bellowed. There was a round of laughter from the other two and the poor man just took another drink from his tankard for all the world looking like he wanted to crawl away.

 

The Qunari teased him further, “Aye lad, you probably should have let the girl alone after he stepped in. But no, you had to go and push him further, telling him to mind his own business. No _ass_ is worth that kind of trouble.”

 

“I swear, Chief, I thought he was just trying impress the girl with how he was talking about how to treat a lady! With as drunk as he was, I didn’t think he could even lift his sword.”

 

“You should pay closer attention.” The Qunari intoned. “A fully armored man, drunk or not, should be taken seriously. His words may have been slurred, but there was no hesitation in his grip on that blade of his. It was as much a part of him as your hand is to you. Your refusal to back down, when he offered to teach you a lesson, only succeeded in getting us all involved.”  

 

There was a fair amount of grumbling amongst the group regarding the fight. Lyna heard murmurs of how the drunk rambled on and slurred his way through the whole exchange. They were amazed at how he _never_ seemed to stop talking.

 

That bit sounded rather familiar and Lyna--glancing quickly at Zevran--began to smile.

 

She continued to listen in on how he complained about the disrespectful youth of today. That back when he was in the chantry, such disrespect would get you public lashes and a fortnight of mucking the stables. They even mentioned how he was bragging about being a Grey Warden and should conscript the lot of them to pay even further penance for their transgressions.  

 

“Well, that certainly sounds like Alistair.” Lyna whispered to Zevran with a chuckle and a sparkle in her eyes that hadn’t been present since before the Landsmeet.

 

She kept listening as they talked about the fight that ensued and even though this fighter could barely keep his feet under him, he’d been quite formidable. The mercenaries found themselves humiliated and outmatched. There was a mix of awe and fury as they spoke of the Warden’s skills and finally resignation to the fact that four capable fighters had been bested by him. They were even more amazed that none of them had lost their lives in the battle. They’d only been knocked unconscious, which spoke even greater of this fighter’s skill in battle.  

 

The conversation started to die down again as they nursed their collective, wounded pride. Lyna and Zevran had heard enough of the general details, but she still had specific questions that she wanted answered before they decided to chase this new lead. She knew that it was only through asking directly, that she would get the answers she sought.  

 

Lyna gave Zevran a mischievous grin, “Here goes nothing.” She popped a few buttons at the top of her tunic, exposing the curve of her well defined breasts. Zevran arched an eyebrow in appreciation and took another drink of his ale, his eyes never leaving the swell of her breasts. She rolled her eyes at him but smiled and winked before grabbing her drink then standing.  

 

Lyna sauntered over to the mercenaries table; putting perhaps a little more sway to her petite hips than she normally would. She sidled onto the bench next to the Qunari who seemed to be leading this group of miscreants and gestured silently to the serving girl to bring them all another round. She smiled when the drinks arrived and turned to break the silence that had befallen the table at her approach.  

 

The leader beat her to it. He looked her up and down appreciatively before leaning toward her with a chuckle, “Well, sweet little thing, what can we do for _you_ this evening?”

 

Lyna’s ‘acting’ could only take her so far. She took another drink from her tankard and began with honesty. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. I have been searching for an old friend of mine. He sounds very much like this ‘Warden’ I heard you speaking of. I would wish to learn more, to make sure that it’s really him, if you’d be willing to part with more information.”  

 

There was silence as they sized her up, deciding for themselves whether she was worth the effort and if she really was as meek and fragile as her elven physique made her appear to be. This wisp of an elf with her ripe attributes so prominently on display, sat relaxed and comfortable in the company of these four--rather intimidating looking mercenaries. She appeared to be well armed, with two large daggers strapped to her back, one smaller knife at her belt and another visible at each thigh. Yet her hands were well away from these blades and resting almost casually on her own mug of ale.

 

She let them look her over as she sipped her drink and waited for their reply.  

 

“And... what would you be willing to pay for this…information?” The Qunari made to reach up to touch her shoulder but never made contact as Lyna had a blade drawn and measured at his throat without pulling the stein from her lips. He froze, his one eye wide, glancing at the visible blades she carried and noting that they were all still in place.  

 

Lyna allowed herself a small smirk hidden within her mug, knowing that this seasoned Qunari was trying to ascertain where this blade came from, and if he was smart, was also wondering how many more she had hidden on her person.   

 

She schooled her face and calmly set her cup down before leveling her sweetest smile at the Qunari’s companions before cocking her head to one side and landing her gaze on the leader himself. With her blade still to his throat, she said, “You could try your hand. If you aren’t afraid to lose it. I may take such an insult as an attack, one that you would not survive.”

 

They chuckled at her brashness.

 

She continued as if they hadn’t interrupted, “If the man you spoke of, is who I think it is, he was my brother in arms, my _fellow_ Grey Warden. A warrior of unquestionable skill, there is no doubt. And yet--at his finest--he was _no_ match for _my_ blades. You have already felt defeat at his hands while inebriated, where as I… am quite sober. One of you might be lucky enough to land a single blow against me.” She now looked the tall Qunari in the eye, “But not before you lay dead at my feet and none of you would survive to finish these drinks that I have bought for you as I am not as forgiving as my friend. Ask yourself, is that a risk you are willing to take again? It is your choice. Your life. I am in _no_ danger here.” To drive her point home, Lyna lifted her cup for another pull of ale while she let them mull over her words, her blade never wavering from its target.

 

She watched as they looked around the table at each other. When she saw them relax back into their own spaces, she knew she had their full attention and the potential for battle was over. Lyna sheathed her blade so swiftly that they still had no idea where she kept it. To them, it was suddenly gone and that was how she preferred it. She smiled again _sweetly_ and raised her cup in salute to their delayed--but wise--decision.  

 

The Qunari reached up and wiped a small spot of blood from his neck, licked it off his finger then laughed heartily. “Hahaha, I like you, girl. You’ve got spirit! I am The Iron Bull and these miscreants work for me.” Lyna dipped her chin once in greeting.

 

“So… you’re one of those _Wardens_ too huh? I didn’t think there were many of those left here in Ferelden, not after that battle at Ostagar and then the damned blight.” He huffed with disdain.

 

Lyna’s smile turned briefly grim, but she tilted her head in confirmation. “You are correct. There aren’t many of us left around these parts at all. Which is why finding this particular Warden is so important to me.”

 

He held up his tankard in salute to lost brothers in arms which she returned in kind and they both drank deeply.

 

After finishing his ale, he continued, “What is it exactly that you would like to know? And there is still the unanswered matter of payment?”

 

Lyna glanced at him with eyebrows raised. He chuckled but quickly held up his giant hands, palms out, to show he had no weapons in them and was decidedly _not_ trying to touch her again. This wasn’t a proposition; it was now a business arrangement.

 

She nodded in acknowledgement, “You will be paid for your information, The Iron Bull, in coin, if it pleases you. In the meantime, these drinks are on me as added thanks for your time.” She signaled to the barkeep to keep the ale flowing and began asking her questions in earnest.

 

In the end, they were _very_ accommodating. She wanted to know what the Warden looked like, what he was wearing, armed with, and where exactly they saw him. She learned that they encountered Alistair, for she was certain now that’s who it was, at the Hanged Man tavern in the Lowtown section of Kirkwall. From what the group could gather, he’d been there for a while and seemed to be pretty set in his routine. If she moved quickly and was lucky, he would most likely still be there by the time she arrived. At the very least, there would be a trail again, one that she would be able to follow.  

 

“Thank you gentlemen, you’ve been very helpful. I do apologize for us getting off on the wrong foot, but I did enjoy our little chat.” She nodded once more to The Iron Bull with the passing thought that this tall mountain of muscle had more hidden behind his eye than he let most people see. She discarded the notion knowing that she had more pressing matters to attend to.

 

Lyna left a gold sovereign on the table in payment. Before leaving, she waylaid the barmaid to have some bread and stew sent over for The Iron Bull and his men then paid their tab for the evening as well. She wasn’t unreasonable after all and was in fact, _very_ grateful to them for guiding her to her next destination.  

 


	5. Renewed Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

 

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

**Renewed Hope**

* * *

 

Zevran fell into step beside her as they headed toward their rooms. “Well, that was… bracing. I dare say, it’s nice to see that little spark in your eye again and those beautiful breasts of yours making an appearance, doesn’t hurt matters either.”  

 

Lyna smacked Zevran playfully on the shoulder and refastened the buttons of her shift again. “You are incorrigible, Zev! Is that all you ever think about?”

 

“Well… yes, actually. You star in many of my fantasies and after that display tonight, I think one or two of your new friends there might join us in them as well. Care to accompany me in my dreams of riding that Bull while we fondle the pretty one they were teasing?” He grinned at Lyna unabashedly.

 

When she only glared at him, he cleared his throat and changed the topic, “So, we have a new destination then? When do we leave?”

 

Without missing a beat, she responded, “Before first light, it’s already been far too long.” She finished the last with a sigh, it was her own personal mantra lately. They met briefly in Lyna’s room and discussed their intended route. West Hill was the closest port; it would be quickest to hire passage to Kirkwall from there. They ironed out a few more details, but the rest of them could be discussed and decided on the road. After they finished their planning, the duo bedded down for the night.

 

Sleep was difficult for Lyna, more so tonight than usual. So excited was she to finally have a solid lead. Not just a hint or a whisper--a true destination in mind to guide their travels. And when she got there, what then? Redemption? Forgiveness? She barely dared to hope, yet she had to try. Every time she closed her eyes, she would see his face. His hurt and betrayal burned forever in her mind. The feel of his tender embrace, his lips on hers; a distant memory. She knew it could never be exactly as it was before, but perhaps there could be a new beginning. What did she have to lose?

 

**~*~**

 

Their travels seemed to take forever; and yet, went by in a blur.  They’d been traveling together for almost a year searching in vain to find Alistair. Now that they were almost upon him, Lyna was all too consumed with what she would say to him when she finally did catch up to him. She was also painfully aware that she needed to harden her heart at the rejection she felt she deserved. Hope or rejection--one way or the other--she would have her answer soon enough.  

 

Zevran watched Lyna as they traveled North from the Spoiled Princess at the Docks of Lake Calenhad. He contemplated their relationship in silence. It seemed forever ago that he failed in his mission to take her life. He found himself so intrigued by her decision to let him live that he swore his blades to her service. At first, it was partially in self-preservation, knowing the Crows would be coming for him for his failure. Over time however, he became impressed with how she carried herself. She made tough decisions look all too easy.

 

Lyna always led by her innately good heart and as he came to know her better, he grew to truly respect her. Friendship was something new to him, she was unlike anyone he’d ever met, always taking into account her companions opinions and feelings when it mattered most. The weight of the world on this young woman’s beautiful shoulders; she bore it with dignity and without complaint. She loved her friends and in return they could do no less.  

 

Once he realized the purpose and dedication she’d imprinted on his life; he knew he was lost. What began as a swearing of fealty to assure her he wouldn’t attempt to kill her, had become much more than the young assassin ever anticipated. He marveled at the place his heart reserved only for her. Zevran contemplated the wonder of the woman who--for the first time in his life--had him thinking of someone else's happiness rather than his own.   
           

He loved this woman so completely that he was willing to walk through darkspawn so that she could be in another’s arms. Her happiness--not his own--meant that much to him. He knew that her heart didn’t belong to him. She loved him yes, but as a dear friend, a trusted companion. She put up with his flirting and jesting, but he knew it could never be more.  

 

In truth, he was happy that her heart belonged to Alistair, not that Zevran would ever mention it to his face. Alistair was a good man, albeit a tad naive and inexperienced in the world. He would even have made a decent King, if things had gone differently. For now, though, they just needed to find him and rescue him from himself. If what The Iron Bull’s group said was true, he’d sunk lower than either of them expected. The lovesick fool. He didn’t deserve what her rejection did to him. Whether Alistair liked it or not, they were coming to save him; to save her, and Maker willing, save _them_ if at all possible.

 

Zevran knew that Alistair would do or be anything for Lyna, as she would in return for him. They deserved to be together, they needed each other and, Zevran’s heart be damned, he would do all he could to bring them back together again. Even if it meant knocking them both out and tying them face to face--naked--together; until they saw reason, or _lust_ took over. Of which the latter, Zevran would very much like to see. Alastair was a very handsome man after all and Zevran wasn’t particular, one way or another.  

 


	6. Bittersweet Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

 

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

 

**Bittersweet Memories**

* * *

 

Lyna looked over at Zevran and noticed that he was smiling wickedly to himself. “I know I will most likely regret asking this, but what has you smirking so devilishly over there?”

 

Coming out of his own reverie, Zevran admitted, “Oh nothing much, I was just picturing the steamy makeup sex you and your dear-sweet Alistair will have when we finally catch up to him. Come, help me with the details! Do you think it will be slow and sensual; all tender kisses and caresses? Or perhaps more urgent and acrobatic; with a bit of candle wax and nipple clamps thrown in for good measure?”

                                            

Lyna’s blush touched the tips of her ears, “I definitely shouldn’t have asked!”

 

Creators willing, she would get a chance to touch him again. She wanted that more than anything. To share herself with him, mind, body, and soul. To run her hands through his hair and lose herself in his eyes. She knew hope was dangerous--but still--Lyna allowed herself a moment to remember: his touch, his smell, how he could fill her completely and make her whole.

 

She remembered their first night together; how nervous they both were. Tentative touches and caresses soon turned to frantic desire and need. The look of adoration and uncertainty on his beautiful face, not completely sure this was the _right_ time and place. But he’d made his point, “When will it ever _be_ perfect?”

 

They decided to throw caution to the wind, completely giving themselves to each other. Touching, learning, caressing, memorizing each other’s well-toned bodies. Nibbling, licking, nipping, kissing, moaning each other’s names and sweet prayers to the deities. Still, it wasn’t enough--not close enough--they needed to be one.

 

As he parted her legs that very first time, he held himself up above her, drinking her in. Gazing deep into her eyes, he needed to be sure that this was what _she_ wanted. Hope, love, and trepidation was written plainly on his face.  

 

She returned his gaze and stroked her hand gently down the side of his face. Lyna cupped his cheek and breathed every last ounce of love and reassurance into her words, “Yes, Alistair, please!”

 

He kissed her then; putting everything into that kiss and surrendered himself completely to her. She had his heart, his devotion, and as he eased himself into her entrance, he surrendered his body as well.  

 

Slowly he inched in: tight, hot, moist--stopped before he was fully sheathed.

 

_Blocked_?

 

Realization hit--this was _her_ first time as well. They talked about _his_ inexperience and uncertainties, but she always seemed so confident, playful, and sure of herself. He assumed…

 

He looked down at her, so incredibly beautiful, a flicker of uncertainty there--then gone--replaced by love and complete trust. He paused--withdrawing slightly. She tilted her hips in silent invitation and encouragement.

 

He pushed forward again, through her maiden-head; a small gasp escaped her. He stopped a moment--waiting. When he felt the tight confines of her core relax their hold on his shaft; he finished sheathing himself inside of her.

 

Moaning her name and kissing her deeply, his hands caressed her body while he continued to thrust within her. Slowly and gently at first; mesmerized and memorizing the new sensation of being joined. Together as one. Overwhelmed, yet craving more. _Needing_ more.

 

Increasing in speed and intensity; frantic needs being met--thrust by delicious thrust. Their tongues danced to match the rhythm of their bodies. Hands exploring, bodies caressing, clawing, kneading flesh. Softly moaning each other’s names with whispers of adorations. Crying out their encouragements; _“More, Please, Yes!”_  

 

Their pleasures built; rising like the tide, swells increasing with each thrust of their hips. Growing ever larger until the waves blissfully crashed over her with cries of ecstasy. Backs arching and hips grinding as they rode the waves to shore. Her inner walls constricting and milking his cock, coaxing him to his own release.

 

They stayed wrapped together, kissing and whispering words of awe and worship to one another while they caught their breaths. Reverently reveling in their ardent coupling. Reluctantly, he withdrew from her and re-positioned himself with her head on his shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around each other. Not wanting to ever let go.  

 

Alistair finally found his voice, “Maker’s breath, my love. Why didn’t you tell me? Did I--hurt you?”  

 

Her Alastair was always worrying more about her. There were so many things that she should have told him. So many things she wanted to still. And now, she prayed, that when she finally got the chance, he would be willing to listen.  

 

**~*~**

 

Zevran glanced over at Lyna and noticed her staring straight ahead with tears streaming down her cheeks. He reached out and gently touched her hand. She didn’t flinch or pull away, but blinked slowly and silently wiped away the tears she’d been shedding.

 

He gripped her free hand and gave it a quick, firm squeeze to let her know that he was here for her should she need him, but otherwise remained silent. He knew better than to interrupt these thoughts. They were obviously something that she was actively working through at the moment.

 

Letting her collect herself, he increased his own awareness around them. Protecting her and keeping her safe was his priority while she took the time to heal her heart and prepare for what was to come.

 

**~*~**

 

Lyna let the memories of her first night with Alistair drift away, it would do her no good to dwell on them. She looked over at Zevran who watched her with concern in his eyes.

 

“You ok?”

 

“I will be,” she reassured him as best she could.

 

“I am sorry if I brought up something that caused you pain, my dear.”

 

“It’s ok, Zev. It’s nothing that you had any control over. We’re just … so close now. We will be in West Hill before much longer and hopefully be able to find a ship to take us to Kirkwall without much trouble. If we’re lucky, we’ll find Alistair before the week is out. I’m excited--and terrified. There’s an end in sight to all of our searching and I’m almost afraid of what we’ll find. The way those mercenaries described him… did _I_ do that to him? Did he fall so low because of the cruelty I used to drive him away? If anything happened to him because he was too drunk to take care of himself, I don’t think I could ever forgive myself.”

 

Zevran reached out and gripped her shoulder reassuringly, “Lyna, the choices he’s made since leaving Denerim were his choices alone to make. You did not force that path. If he _truly_ has let himself fall so far into drink as they described, that only goes to show you how much he loves and needs you. We _will_ find him and make all of this right. No one deserves to be happier than you do, Lyna. You have given so much of yourself to save the rest of us. You turned your back on your own heart, it is time now to reclaim it. Two hearts that beat for each other as yours and Alistair’s do, will only be truly happy when they are together. He will not be able to deny that, once you see one another again.”

 

She smiled in appreciation of her friend’s reassurances. Then taking a deep cleansing breath--and with an air of determination--picked up their pace.

 

She really needed to get to Kirkwall.  

 

 


	7. ~Alistair~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

 

**~Alistair~**

* * *

 

Sitting alone in the corner of the Hanged Man, Alistair tried to drown out the image of her, but nothing seemed to work. Every time he closed his eyes, she was there. He’d seen her walking across the courtyard, only to grab her arm and realize that it wasn’t his Lyna after all. The drink only managed to dull the edges of his pain and her betrayal, but it never took it away completely.  

 

Today was worse than it had ever been. Wherever he looked, he saw her. At the stall buying trinkets, around every corner, hiding in the shadows, marching in Templar uniform. Thinking back now, he _knew_ that couldn’t have been right. Seeing her at every turn was killing him. Normally he waited until later in the day before retreating to the Hanged Man to drown his sorrows. Today, he couldn’t get there soon enough.

 

He didn’t remember how long he’d been without her now. Too long to be sure and yet, the pain of her pushing him away was as fresh in his heart as the day she thrust her daggers through it, figuratively speaking of course. That might actually have been kinder than the reality of her public betrayal.

 

_How could she side with Loghain and Anora after all they’d been through together?_

 

He was still trying to piece together what happened. How one moment, they were inseparable and declaring their love a devotion for one another. They were planning on a life after the blight, fighting side-by-side with the Wardens. It was the one place--besides her arms--that he ever felt like he truly belonged. The next moment she was inviting Loghain into their secret band of brotherhood and Alistair felt tossed out like last year’s moldy cheese.

 

No more Wardens. No more Lyna.

 

He was so angry and hurt when he stormed out of the Landsmeet; everyone he thought to be his friends all sided with her. Even Arl Eamon, the closest thing to family that he had anymore, turned from him in the end. He had nobody now. The bastard prince of Ferelden, unworthy of even that unwanted title anymore. He was now homeless, miserable, and utterly alone.

 

**~*~**

 

Alistair traveled first to the Brecilian forest, trying to hide his sorrows in his solitude. But the memories were too painful. Lyna loved that forest, having grown up there with her clan. She could blend in and disappear with no one being the wiser; and frequently did. When they were trying to recruit the Dalish to their cause, she would occasionally disappear from the group causing Alistair to become so flustered and worried, not even Wynne could soothe him.

 

Lyna always found some place to lay and wait; perfectly camouflaged in her surroundings. When he least expected it, she’d attack; somersaulting down out of the trees and tackle him to the ground. His grumbles about being ambushed-- _again_ \--soon dissolved into fits of playful giggles as they wrestled around in the underbrush.

 

The others became so accustomed to these playful antics, they’d roll their eyes in exasperation but otherwise, took it in stride. During these rare moments of carefree fun, they simply set up camp around them, knowing that they weren’t going any further while those two were writhing in the mud.

 

Those particularly filthy adventures, usually meant that it took longer for Alistair to care for his armor in the evenings. It also meant, that when they were lucky enough to camp near a stream or a pond, there was time made available for them all to bathe. Lyna usually slipped off first for a quick wash while the others collected firewood and got their evening meal started. Alistair wasn’t allowed to cook for them anymore--not after the last bout of food poisoning--so he would take those opportunities to join her. He cherished those stolen moments together and by the time they returned to camp, the rest of the group would be finished with their chores and ready to take their own turn washing up.

 

On one particularly muddy adventure, it took Alistair an inordinately long time to finish cleaning his armor. When he finally completed his task, he was bone tired, but knew Lyna wouldn’t let him come to bed unless he washed first. Everyone else had already come back from their baths and were beginning to sit around the campfire while Leliana tuned her lute for their evening’s entertainment. He was too tired to notice that not everyone was, in fact, present.

 

Setting his armor aside and taking his only change of clothes, a cake of soap, and his utility dagger with him, Alistair wandered off to scrub up before bed.

 

As he drew closer to the pond, he heard singing. He stopped to listen and realized that it wasn’t Leliana’s voice back by the fire that he was hearing. The voice was familiar, but the song was not.

 

_Elgara vallas, da'len_

_Melava somniar_

_Mala taren aravas_

_Ara ma'desen melar_

 

As quietly as he could, Alistair crept forward. He’d heard Lyna sing along with some of Leliana’s songs around the campfire before, but never in her native tongue. In truth, she spoke very little of her clan or her life with the Dalish before joining the Wardens. He’d heard her speak greetings and niceties in elvish to the Keeper of the clan they’d recruited; all business, however, was conducted in the common tongue.

 

She never liked to dwell in the past, always looking at the present or hoping for the future. She said that made her ‘strange’ amongst her people who were always looking to the past to recapture their race’s forgotten heritage. He only found it more endearing. Who we were before doesn’t matter, it’s who we are now and how we move forward that truly define us.  

 

_Iras ma ghilas, da'len_

_Ara ma'nedan ashir_

_Dirthara lothlenan'as_

_Bal emma mala dir_

 

The song drew Alistair even closer. So intoxicating was her voice; full of emotion and light. He didn’t know what the words meant, but he knew that they were pulling him to her. So pure and precious was this woman who captured his heart. He never had a chance against her wit and charm.

 

As he emerged through the trees into the clearing, he caught his first glimpse of her standing bare and beautiful in the middle of the small pond. Her back to him, the moon cast its beam, illuminating the radiant elf’s bronze skin, turning it to alabaster under its magical light. His breath caught in his throat as she tilted her head up to sing the next verse of her song unto the moon; her luscious brown hair cascaded down around her shoulders.

 

Alistair entered the water, completely enraptured by his lovers’ reflection gently rippling across the surface of the pond in the moonlight. Her song washed over his soul, beckoning him closer still.

 

_Tel'enfenim, da'len_

_Irassal ma ghilas_

_Ma garas mir renan_

_Ara ma'athlan vhenas_

_Ara ma'athlan vhenas_

 

As she finished singing, he couldn’t contain the feelings of adoration bursting from within him. Wrapping her in his arms, he claimed her lips with his own, wanting nothing more than to drown in her essence for all eternity.

 

Coming up for air, Alistair gazed lovingly into her eyes, turned seafoam green in the evening’s light. “That was beautiful, my love. _You_ are beautiful. The language of your people has never sounded so melodious as is does off your tongue.”

 

Lyna smiled bashfully, dipping her head to gaze down into the water. “ _My_ people,” She seemed to taste the phrase on her tongue. “Alistair, _you_ are my people now. Our friends back at camp are _our_ clan. I will always be an elf,” She touched her ears tentatively before continuing, ”but that no longer defines _all_ of who I am.”

 

“I am quite fond of who you are. And I can appreciate our little family for all that it is. I’ve never really had one before, you know. It’s nice to have a place to call home, even if that home is always on the move.” Alistair kissed the top of her head and pulled her toward him again. He could feel the soft curves of her breasts pressed against his naked abdomen as her head rested comfortably, directly over his heart. He always marveled at how well they fit together, perfectly contoured to each other’s curves.

 

“What was the song you were singing, if I may ask? I have never heard you sing it before.”

 

Lyna smiled softly, then turned her face up so she could gaze into his eyes, “It was a lullaby that Ashalle used to sing to me after my parents died. I actually hadn’t thought about it in years, but being here tonight, under the moon, in this forest; it needed to be sung again.”

 

Alistair’s lips met hers as he pulled her into his loving embrace. He would never tire of the feeling of her lips on his, the smell of her skin; both flowery and sweet, and the tenderness of her touch as they made love that night, in a small pond, under the moonlight.  

 

**~*~**

 

With a wistful sigh, Alistair knew that he couldn’t stay in the forest. The very trees seemed to whisper her name when the wind blew through them. Too much of her remained here. Chased from the forest by her memory, he headed east to the coast.

 

The ocean waves were no kinder. The color of the water itself, brought him to his knees; sea-green like her eyes. He could lose himself in them for hours. He prayed to the Maker to give him strength to continue on without her. He felt so empty, so alone. He should be there by her side, fighting to end this Blight. A fight that had brought them together.

 

She made her choice and he would have to figure out a way to carry on without her. She obviously didn’t need him to get the job done. Didn’t need him to watch her back as she dove into the final battle. Was probably tired of him dragging her down with his whining, complaining, and general overall ineptitude. How could he have been so stupid, to think that someone as amazing, strong, and beautiful as Lyna, could ever lower themselves to share their life with someone as pathetic as he?

 

Dwelling on these morose thoughts, Alistair watched the sea as it did battle with the land. Their forcefulness as they crashed against the shore, reminded him of how deadly and unstoppable she was in battle. The perfect companion to have fight at his side, her daggers blazing wildly in a beautiful dance of death and certainty. His sword and shield, the strength and wall allowing for her nimble acrobatics to strike their targets true.

 

Alone, it was a painful reminder that he was no longer there to protect her as he promised to do so long ago. He was no longer worthy enough of such an honor, but it seemed _Loghain_ was.

 

He shook his head to try to rid it of that line of thinking. Her choice had been made. She chose... _him_. Maybe not to share her bed, but it almost hurt more to think that she trusted that traitor to watch her back.

 

It was these thoughts that haunted him as he traveled south to Gwaren. News from Denerim had already arrived at the seaport town as Alistair made his way toward the docs. The general overall mood of the people was one of excitement and relief. The Archdemon was dead and Lyna was now being touted as the _Hero of Ferelden_. He felt greatly relieved at the news that she survived. She was the _only_ surviving Warden, they said. Alistair also took comfort in knowing that Loghain was dead, but he wondered briefly what happened to Riordan? He said a quick prayer to the Maker in the old Warden’s name then put all of those thoughts aside as he continued on to his destination.

 

After securing a spot on a vessel headed for the Free Marches with the morning tide, Alistair made his way to the local tavern in hopes of finding a room for the night. Perhaps knowing now that she was safe, he would be able to move on. He doubted it, the pain was still too raw in his chest. Leaving his homeland would be a start. Perhaps he could find refuge in the lands across the sea. He knew that he could make his way using his skill with his sword, if only he could drown out the image of her in his mind. He needed to fill the void in his heart that her absence left. But how?

 

The waitress brought Alistair his evening meal and a tankard of the swill that they called ale. As he finished his meal and his third mug of the vile drink, he noticed that the pain he’d been feeling had been buffeted and was now only a dull ache. Still very much there, but at least he could focus on something other than the feeling of her in his arms. Upon ordering his fifth drink, Alistair became convinced that _this_ perhaps would be how he could manage to move on without her. He didn’t have her or any family or friends to speak of anymore, but he had some coin, skill with his sword and as the ale enveloped him in its warm embrace; Alistair felt like he had a means to move on. It was something at least, even if one could not exactly call it _hope._

 

**~*~**

**Presently**

The door to the Hanged Man opened; Alistair glanced up from his pint and saw _her_ once again. It was happening all too often lately. This time he just lowered his head, not trusting himself or his heart to be able to handle another rejection. It wasn’t her, it couldn’t be her. She didn’t want him. Why would she bother? He grumbled to himself about how cruel the world had become; she’d never had that bloody assassin at her side in any of his visions before. He took an even larger pull from his ale and tried to make them both disappear.

 

* * *

 

**End Notes:**

**_Mir Da'len Somniar - a Dalish Lullaby_ **

(Found here: <http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Elven_language>)

 

**Translation of the song Alistair caught Lyna singing**

(It's not my song, I don’t own it, didn’t write it, but it’s a beautiful lullaby that Lyna just couldn’t resist singing for you).

 

_Sun sets, little one,_

_Time to dream_

_Your mind journeys,_

_But I will hold you here._

 

_Where will you go, little one_

_Lost to me in sleep?_

_Seek truth in a forgotten land_

_Deep within your heart._

 

_Never fear, little one,_

_Wherever you shall go._

_Follow my voice--_

_I will call you home._

_I will call you home._

 


	8. ~Kirkwall~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

 

**_~Kirkwall~_ **

* * *

 

Once in Kirkwall, they had no trouble getting directions to Lowtown and finally to the Hanged Man. It was a few hours past midday when they stopped outside the door of their destination.

 

Before entering, Lyna reiterated her plan to Zevran, “Talk to the barkeep, see if they have any information on Alistair and get us two rooms. I will look around and talk to people to see if any of them have any information for us. If he is not here…” She let her voice trail off, then what? She had no idea.

 

Zevran squeezed her arm in reassurance and they let the unspoken thought drift away. They really didn’t need to have this conversation. She was just delaying the inevitable and they both knew it.

 

Squaring her shoulders, Lyna took a deep breath, then opened the door.

 

Stepping just inside and seeing the bar to his left, Zevran headed over while Lyna surveyed her surroundings. The room was dimly lit and crowded for this time of day. Her gaze passed over all manner of people: a group of off duty guards sitting at the table just inside and to the left of the doorway, serving girls, merchants, elves, humans, dwarves, people sleeping in the corners, and hunched over their drinks wallowing in their own misery. Nowhere did she see her Alistair.  

 

A boisterous laugh came from a table in front of one of the fireplaces. It hosted a motley looking group that drew Lyna’s attention. There was a dwarf standing at one end of the table recanting stories of epic adventure. At least, that’s what they appeared to be as he was incredibly animated in whatever he was describing. He had more hair on his chest than on his face and would occasionally stroke his crossbow almost lovingly.

 

Lyna chuckled to herself. _Well, to each their own_.

 

She noticed a female guard sitting at the table to his right. Her red hair tied back into a knot with a band around her brow to secure the hair from falling into her eyes in battle. She seemed the type that was more comfortable in her armor than out. Across from the warrior sat a young mage and a slightly older rogue. They looked so similar that they could be sisters with their dark hair and equally severe expressions. Those two had suffered loss that was barely hidden behind their banter. Lyna guessed that they were refugees. She knew that many Fereldens as well as a few Dalish Clans had fled north to escape the Blight. She wondered briefly from what part of Ferelden these two hailed.

 

At the other end of the table was a Dalish elf in robes completely enraptured by the dwarf’s tale. She seemed part and yet, apart from the lively banter of her little group. She had dark hair and Lyna narrowed her eyes as something about the girl’s ears and vallaslin pricked her sense of familiarity. When the dark-haired elf turned her head a little more towards the door, Lyna smiled widely. It was her old clan mate Merrill; but what was she doing here in Kirkwall? She’d been studying under Keeper Marethari, as her _First_ , when Lyna saw her last. She and Lyna were never close as Merrill always seemed to spend her time in the Keeper’s shadow, but she remembered her to be kind and friendly enough--if a bit awkward--growing up. Perhaps she would get a chance to talk with her about their clan, once her more _urgent_ business had been tended to.

 

Sitting next to the guard, listening to the dwarf weave his story, was a light haired mage who was absentmindedly petting a cat currently curled up in his lap. And finally, standing next to him, leaning against the back of his chair was… was that Isabela? Lyna smiled at the luck of finding two familiar faces in this foreign place.

 

As if being summoned by her thoughts; Isabela looked up and grinned as she recognized her old dualist pupil from The Pearl, back in Denerim. She turned away from the storyteller and sauntered over to Lyna, only drawing passing glances from most of the group, too enraptured in the tale to wonder where she was going. When Merrill looked up to see where Isabela was off to, she grinned widely in recognition and followed a few steps behind the pirate to greet her old clan mate.

 

“Well hello my dear friend. If another lesson is what you’re after, I can probably entertain you later up in my room, though I fear I have nothing new to teach the now famous _Hero of Ferelden_. I dare say I wouldn’t mind a little one-on-one practice though.” Lyna blushed lightly and smiled at the sultry pirate.

 

_By the Creators, she was almost as bad as Zevran with her flirting_.

 

Merrill interjected, saving Lyna from her blush, “Mythal’s Light! Lyna! I never thought I’d see you again. Not after…Oh and Tamlen… and... you’re _here_! I’m sorry, this is awkward. I think I’ll stop talking now.” She finished her attempts at conversation with a large grin and just threw her arms around Lyna who chuckled softly and returned the hug.

 

Pulling away from Merrill’s embrace, Lyna couldn't help but smile at the two familiar faces that greeted her warmly after all this time. “You two are such a welcome site for these sore eyes. I’ve been on the road for so long, it’s nice to see some friendly faces again.”

 

Lyna embraced Isabela affectionately before she continued to speak in a hushed tone. “I am looking for someone though. You haven’t, by chance, seen Alistair have you?” She looked at her friends to see if there was any recognition in their eyes. She knew that Isabela met Alistair the one time, but wasn’t sure if Merrill even knew who he was. Even still, she didn’t think it could hurt to ask.

 

Merrill only looked confused, but Isabela’s eyes fell, knowing that Lyna wasn’t going to like what she was about to find. Of course she _knew_ where Alistair was. Anyone in Kirkwall could point out the predictability of that lost, drunken soul. During the day he could be found moping around Lowtown, harassing the occasional elven female.

 

Come to think of it, Avaline noticed that all of the people who filed complaints with the guard had similar features to each other. Those features _strongly_ resembled Lyna. _Interesting._ She filed that piece of information away for later. You never knew when something like that could come in handy.  

 

When Alistair wasn’t accosting the female half of the elven community, and even when he wasn’t, he was always stumbling drunk. That he maintained enough fighting ability to take on the Darktown jobs no one else wanted was, in itself, quite miraculous.

 

He seemed to make only enough money to keep himself fairly inebriated day and night. After the sun went down, you could be certain to find him in the corner here at the Hanged Man, drinking himself into a stupor; mumbling and grumbling about the injustices of it all, until he passed out. After which, he would be taken outside to sleep it off in some dark corner somewhere; only to wake up and do it all over again.

 

No one even bothered him anymore laying in those shadows night after night. Oh they tried to at first; attempted to relieve him of his armor and weapons. They soon learned that drunk or not, this man was not worth the effort--or hazard--such prospects proposed.  

 

Alistair mostly minded his own business and stayed out of trouble. The only complaints came from the pointy eared, breeches wearing, feminine variety. But even those complaints were only for the initial surprise of being grabbed by Alistair, only to have themselves pushed away in disgust once he realized they were not who he thought they were. Sometimes Isabela wondered if those complaints weren’t more about being disappointed that he wasn’t actually interested in them in the first place. Alistair, for all his drunkenness, was still a very handsome man.

Lyna watched her old friends’ eyes drop and with a heavy sigh, glance into the corner of the tavern. She followed Isabela’s gaze where she saw a man hunched over a tankard of ale. She spotted him when she walked in, but with his hunched shoulders and seemingly defeated demeanor, she dismissed him as not important. Upon closer inspection, Lyna’s breath caught in her chest as she realized that the unwashed, unshaven, beaten down man in the corner, belonged to her heart’s desire. When she looked back at Isabela, she saw sadness and sympathy in those eyes, confirming Lyna’s discovery.

 

Comprehension dawned on Merrill’s innocent face, “Oh _that_ Alistair. Yes, I’ve seen him, he’s always...Ouch! What was that for?” She looked at Isabela accusingly.

 

Isabela finished glaring her warning at Merrill then brushed her hand down Lyna’s arm, giving it a gentle squeeze just above the wrist. “Good luck, my friend. I think he needs you.” Isabela wrapped her arm around Merrill’s shoulders and gently directed her back to the table where the dwarf had just finished taking a bow while the rest laughed in lighthearted camaraderie.

 

She heard Merrill’s protests at being led away, “but I wanted to talk to her! She was in my clan before the accident, you know. No, the _other_ accident. I wanted to ask her about...”

 

“Hush now, this isn’t the time. I’m sure you will be able to catch up with her later.” Lyna heard Isabela reassure Merrill as they took their places back at the table.

 

Glancing around, Lyna found Zevran tucked into the shadows, watching her in return. With a nod and a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and approached the broken man trying desperately to drown his sorrows.

 


	9. The Bedraggled Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

 

**The Bedraggled Man** ****

* * *

 

Looking down into his empty tankard, Alistair was trying to figure out where his drink had disappeared to when someone sat down across from him. Without looking up, he slurred at the intruder, waving his tankard dramatically, “That sseat ish not for you f- fr- iend. I’m not w- wor- th your time.” He shuddered a breath and continued in an almost whisper, “I may have been onesh, but I’m, - _hic_ \- not worth anything to _anyone_ anymore.” He raised his cup to his lips and tried to wring a last drop from the bottom.

 

The person across from him didn’t move or get up from the table. He was about to ask them to leave more directly when he heard them finally speak, “Hello, Alistair.”

 

_That voice!_ The one that haunted his dreams and every waking moment. The one that he’d been both running from and chasing after for longer than he’d care to stay sober enough to remember. His _visions_ never tried to talk to him before. Perhaps someone put a little something _extra_ in his mug of ale today? Or more than likely, he’d finally gone over the deep end and these apparitions of his were starting to take on a more solid form. He closed his eyes and waited, praying to the Maker to ease his mind and take this vision away from him.

 

The ghost of his lost love, spoke again, “Alistair?”

 

His head snapped up. That voice was too tentative to belong to a demon or apparition. It seemed hesitant and unsure. Maybe he wasn’t imagining her. _His_ Lyna never seemed hesitant and unsure before. He narrowed his gaze and tried to focus on the blurry shape before him. As she came into focus, he knew she was real. Her. Real. Here?

 

He jumped up in a panic, knocking his bench over in his haste. The loud crash surprised his overly sensitive ears. With a startled shout he tried to take a step back, but caught his foot on the overturned bench, pitching him backwards.

 

The last thing he remembered was Lyna’s look of shock as the back of his head came into contact with the brick wall behind him, plunging him into blessed darkness.

 

**~*~**

 

From across the room, Avaline watched as a new face in town sat down with the local drunk. He professed to being someone important; sometimes a Grey Warden, others a bastard Prince. But all she saw as a guard was a sad, drunken, broken down man; washed up before his time. He was an annoyance, but _mostly_ harmless. So when she saw him jump up in panic, her hand instinctively went to the sword on her hip to defend him. Isabela grabbed her arm and whispered close to her ear, “It’s ok, just watch.”  

 

Quick as lightening, the stranger was over the top of the table and had him in her arms before he could fall to the ground unconscious. Almost as quickly, she was joined by another elf. Together, they supported the unconscious man and headed towards the stairs that led up to the inn’s rooms; stopping only to retrieve Alistair’s shield from the floor along the way. They didn’t appear to have any ill intentions toward him, so she relaxed her grip on her sword. She watched the two elves share a look that could only be translated into concern and fearful affection.

 

Avaline gazed back at Isabela who was leaning conspiratorially towards Varric and heard her say with a smirk, “You wanted a story, Varric? That there was Lyna Mahariel, the _Hero of Ferelden_ , come to reclaim her heart.” Merrill giggled and Varric’s eyes grew wide with appreciation as he glanced back at the steps the trio disappeared up.

 

**~*~**

 

Lyna vaulted the table as she heard Alistair’s head hit the wall, barely catching him before he could slump to the floor completely. _W_ _ell that could have gone better_ , Lyna thought to herself as Zevran joined her. Wrapping Alistair’s other arm over his shoulder, he began to lead her to the rooms he’d reserved for them upstairs. Noticing Alistair’s shield on the ground, Lyna hooked it with her foot and kicked it up into her grip as they passed by. Together they bore their charge upstairs.

**~*~**

 

Zevran opened the door to a simple but clean room. Immediately inside the door to the right, stood a small table and two chairs. A fire was burning brightly in the hearth on the right wall of the room with an overstuffed chair just past it in the far corner. There was a small table on the left side of the room; only big enough to hold the washbasin and pitcher laid out and ready for use upon it. There was a large bed in the center of the room with a square table on either side of it and a chest at the foot of it. It was on the bed that they gently deposited the still unconscious form of their charge.

 

Lyna began to remove Alistair’s boots while Zevran deposited their belongings near the fire. Trying to lighten the mood, he teased, “You don’t waste any time. Not even conscious and you’re already ripping his clothes off.” Zevran smirked at Lyna, though there was no humor in his eyes, they only showed worry for his two friends.  

 

Lyna snorted at her friend’s attempt at levity, but it turned into a half choked sob, “Just look at him Zev. He’s lost weight, his armor is filthy, as is he. He just looks so… lost. _I_ did this to him, he was strong, carefree, happy and now--I broke him. My selfishness broke him.” She wiped her tears on her sleeve and continued to remove his socks.  

 

“Ugh” Cringing at the smell, Lyna continued, “We can’t leave him like this. I can’t…”

 

Zevran looked at Lyna and placed a comforting hand on her arm. “My dear, every choice you made, was for _him_. You chose to stand by him and comfort him when he found out his sister was a money grubbing wench. You chose to save not only the Arlessa but her son Connor too, at his request; even though it would have been easier and more expedient to just sacrifice one of them so we could get on with curing Arl Eamon. You stepped up to lead even though he was six months your senior, but never ridiculed his decision to follow you or make him feel any less for not wanting to be in charge. You defended his honor and respected his wishes of not wanting to be King. Every decision you have made had his best interest at heart. You love him and deep down, he knows this. I think he just may need to be reassured of it again.” He lowered his arm from hers and gave her a comforting smile.

 

Lyna nodded in understanding. She knew it was true, she even sent him away to preserve his life. But would _he_ see it that way when she told him the truth?

 

Zevran retrieved the wash basin while Lyna dug in her pack for a cake of soap and a cloth to wash Alistair with. Half talking to herself, Lyna lamented, “This will likely be awkward if he wakes while we’re washing him. But the air in here has already grown thick, this cannot wait.”

 

Zevran nodded at Lyna’s statement then said, “Sadly, I cannot stay while you strip and tease our beloved Alistair here. As much as I would love to. I have a few things I need to go get, please try not to ravage him too much while I’m away.” With that, he winked at her and slipped out the door.  

 

Lyna put some water on to warm then went back to removing Alistair’s armor. She set each piece next to the fire so it could be tended to later. Next, she removed his padding and threw it next to the door to the room, it would need to be cleaned--at the very least--or burned and replaced if she had it her way.

 

When the water was ready, she poured the steaming liquid into the basin so she could begin to clean up her love. Starting at his head, Lyna checked the spot that had connected with the wall downstairs. Though there was a small lump, but it didn’t look like he’d done any major damage. She worried briefly over his current state of consciousness--or lack thereof--then decided that he was most likely still under the effects of the alcohol. Refusing to think anything else, she continued with her task.

 

Lyna took the cloth, dipped it in the water and grabbed the cake of soap to begin cleaning his hair and face. As she washed him, she reacquainted herself with his features. Though the muscles in his face were slack from unconsciousness, she noticed he had a few small scars that weren’t there before and he looked more careworn... older. She set the cloth back in the water and pulled him into a sitting position so she could remove his tunic. She savored the brief moment of him in her arms with a guilty sigh before gently laying him back down un-shirted.  

 

After arranging Alistair back on the bed, she continued cleaning him; his neck, arms, and hands. She loved those calloused hands and how they made her feel. With another sigh, she rinsed the cloth again and began to wash under his arms and the front of his tightly defined torso.  

 

 


	10. Cleansing Rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

 

 **Cleansing Rituals**  

* * *

 

After a while, Zevran returned carrying a bundle strapped to his back and a tray laden with food in his arms. He walked over to the table and laid the tray down on it, then noticed Lyna running her fingers lovingly across Alistair’s bare chest and down his abdomen. She was so enraptured in her ministrations that she hadn’t yet acknowledged Zevran’s return. She appeared to be re-memorizing every contour of his body; from his taut battle-ready stomach muscles to the dips his pelvic bones made leading her hands down towards his...

 

Zevran cleared his throat to get her attention then immediately felt bad as she jumped, jerking her hand away as if she had been doing something she shouldn’t have been. He had only meant to remind her that she had an audience; not make her feel guilty. “Really, mia amata. I am happy to help you with that, if you’d like.”

 

 

She blushed heavily and flung a stern glare his way. Lyna turned back to Alistair and resumed washing his body. Zevran approached the bed slowly, watching her gaze wistfully at Alistair lying unconscious on the bed. He set the bundle down next to Alistair’s feet and responded to Lyna’s unasked question, “New breeches, tunic, and underthings for him.” Her questioning look turned to one of gratitude at his thoughtfulness.  

 

“I will help you get these off of him so you can finish his bath before we make him more comfortable.” He indicated, Alistair’s filthy drawers.

 

Lyna expected to see that old twinkle of mischievousness in Zevran’s eye at the mention of helping disrobe Alistair, but all she found there was concern. She nodded in acknowledgement, still afraid to speak with the tips of her ears turning pink at the prospect of removing even more of Alistair’s clothes in front of Zevran. She took a breath and began to untie his breeches, embarrassed or not; Alastair dearly needed this bath.  

 

Lyna was impressed and--truth be told--a little worried, at the lack of innuendo and comments coming from Zevran as Alistair lay completely naked before them. Not one word, snicker, comment, or eyebrow wiggle. Knowing him, this was going to cost her dearly in the not too distant future, but for now, she greatly appreciated his rarely seen tact. Together they finished Alistair’s bath and got him comfortable in his cotton pants, leaving his new shirt, socks, and smalls neatly folded on the chest at the foot of the bed for when he awoke. Finally, they addressed the scruff growing on his face.

 

Lyna hesitated, “I've never shaved him before. Could _you_ do this part for him… for me?”

 

Zevran hedged, “If I do, _you_ must be the one to answer as to why I have a blade to his throat should he wake.”

 

Lyna grinned sheepishly in response and nodded once in acknowledgement of this agreement.

 

Once Alistair was smooth shaven, they pulled the soft blanket up to his chest and let him sleep off the rest of his drink.  

 

Lyna worried at her bottom lip while watching her unconscious love. She finally spoke her fears out loud. “He hasn’t woken up yet. He barely stirred while we were… cleaning him.” She blushed slightly, remembering. “I don’t like this, Zevran. He should have regained consciousness by now.”

 

“Our dear Alistair has had a rough time of it lately. I’m sure seeing you after all this time has given him a bit of a shock. I think he’s earned a bit of rest. He’s safe and clean now, the bump on his head is only a small one, so he will probably come around soon.”

 

Together they cleaned up the washing implements and returned the room to.

 

When all was taken care of, Lyna turned to Zevran, “Thank you, my dear friend. I can’t express how much this means to me.” She reached out and pulled Zevran to her in a warm hug which he returned in kind. She pulled back and smiled at him, her appreciation clearly written on her face.

 

“What you have helped me accomplish, I never could have done on my own. I don’t know what happens next or what will even happen after he wakes.” She wasn’t sure how to proceed, Lyna was so thankful to have Zevran by her side but she couldn’t bind him to her any longer should his desires take him elsewhere.  

 

She finally decided on, “You know your debt to me has been more than repaid, my friend, should you want to…”

 

Zevran didn’t let her finish, “Ah, my dearest, you think I have stayed by your side only because of my pledge to you? That is simply not so. That was why I stayed at first, yes.” He shook his head and smiled affectionately. “Raised as I was, in the house of ill repute, I had many people around me to look after my basic needs, but never did I have anyone to call a _friend_. No one ever cared enough to have my back--when coin wasn’t on the table. I never had a place that I could fully let my guard down and know that I wasn’t in danger.  But I have that _and more_ with you. In you, I have found someone I would consider closer than a friend. You are my sister in heart. La Mia Amata, my loved one. The first person in all of Thedas that I am content to just be close to without needing to bed. As long as you’ll have me by your side, I will be near. Besides, your story is not over yet. Your beloved still needs to wake and then the real adventure begins, yes?” He grinned at Lyna in reassurance.

 

“You and Alistair deserve to be happy, I will do my best to make sure you both have time to heal. We have our rooms here for the week, in the meantime, I will look for more permanent lodging and perhaps, some work to pass the time.”

 

Lyna raised an eyebrow in question.

 

“Oh don’t get _too_ worried, I hear this town is pretty high strung with things going on right now. Mostly with Qunari, mages and Templars… the usual.” He shrugged Nonchalantly. “I will be careful and stay out of the spotlight, this I promise you.”  

 

Lyna hugged her friend again tightly, too choked up to manage more than, “Thank you, Zevran”. She smiled genuinely at him and then turned towards the armor waiting for her by the fire.

 

Zevran reminded her, “There is food enough for both of you on the table and plenty of tea. I also found the powders in your pack that will help with the pain that I’m sure his head will be experiencing when he regains consciousness. Please eat, you need to take care of yourself as well. He will wake when he wakes. I’m going to take his things and get them laundered then I will be just down the hall in my room should you need me.”

 

“Thank you for everything Zevran and wish me luck!”

 

“Good luck, my dear, though you do not need it. It’s plain to see that you two belong together”

 

“You should tell _him_ that.” She said with a small smile, then bid Zevran goodnight.

 

**~*~**

Once the door was closed and locked, Lyna looked around the room. She pondered the tray of food, but decided that she was too nervous to eat, though she did notice with a touch of humor that Zevran had managed to procure some Ferelden cheese for Alistair. She would have to remember to thank him for that later, as well. Lyna put some water on for tea then decided that she better clean herself up next. By the time she was washed and in fresh clothes, the water was ready, so she made herself some tea and positioned the chair in front of the fire so she could watch over Alistair while she tended to her own and his sorely neglected armor.  

 

Lyna’s armor was in fairly good repair, so tending to it didn’t take very long at all. When she was finished with her own, she turned towards Alistair’s and took her time meticulously cleaning and repairing what she could, piece by piece. Finished with his armor, she turned towards his weapons. Picking up the shield, she noticed that it had a familiar shape to it, but was covered with a filthy, unknown animal hide. Removing the cover, Lyna saw that this was, in fact, the shield that she found and given to Alistair so long ago back in Denerim. _Duncan_ _’s shield._ She pondered why it was covered while she took extra care with this piece. She cleaned and polished it until it shone like it did back when Duncan himself carried it.

 

Once the sun had long since gone down, Lyna was finally able to turn her attention toward Alistair’s sword and scabbard. The sheath only needed minor oiling while the weapon, surprisingly, didn’t need much care at all. She said a small prayer of thanks to the Creators that at least some of Alistair was still in there to care for his weapon.

 

As she finished sheathing his sword, she thought she heard her name. Looking toward the bed, she saw that Alistair was mumbling to himself and fidgeting, in his sleep. She watched from her spot in the chair and waited for him to calm when he clearly said her name again.

 

Lyna set everything aside, cleaned her hands as best she could, then went to go sit next to him on the bed. He was obviously dreaming, though it wasn’t clear whether it was a good dream he was having or a bad dream. She reached over to pat his hand when he suddenly grasped onto her and whimpered, “Please… I can’t… Don’t leave…”

 

His voice trailed off, but the pain in his words echoed in her own heart. With his grip still tight on her hand, Lyna decided to just lay down next to him for a little while until he settled. She laid on her right side facing him with their hands clasped firmly together between them. Resting her head on his shoulder, she stroked his chest with her free hand while whispering soothing words hoping to calm him. When the words failed her, she switched to the old Dalish lullaby that Ashalle used to. The soft lilt of her voice carried the soothing melody deep into the fade where Alistair was dreaming. He finally calmed and settled, though still wouldn’t release his grip on her hand. The feeling of being like this, so familiar and comfortable; it was like being ‘home’ again. Lyna told herself, she would only stay like this for a few more minutes.


	11. Into the Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

**Into the Fade**

* * *

 

The next time she opened her eyes, the fire had burned down to embers and Lyna was wrapped firmly in Alistair’s arms; her back pressed tightly against his chest. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized that he was kissing his way from her neck to her ear then finding the very sensitive tip, began to nibble.

 

_Oh sweet Creators how she missed this!_

 

She turned her head to see if he was awake and was disappointed to find that he wasn’t. He seemed to be having an incredibly attentive dream though, as his hands were now roaming freely, cupping and caressing her breasts. She moaned softly as she felt his excitement pressing against her back. His longing and desire echoed through her own body as she began to warm to his attentions. He caught her moan with his mouth and began kissing her in earnest; deeply, passionately.

 

_No, not yet!_

 

Lyna wanted this, but this wasn’t right. He was sleeping… dreaming. “Alistair?” She pulled away and gasped his name, trying to get his attention. _Trying to catch her breath._ It didn’t seem to work, he was kissing her neck and jaw while his hands were, _very--deliberately--_ trying to roll her over onto her back. This sleeping Alistair was being very persistent. She tried to disentangle her limbs from his, only to have him pin her hands above her head. Her next attempt at calling out his name was swallowed by his mouth as he, once again, claimed hers. Now fully on top of her, his hips grinding urgently between her legs, there was no denying that his need was real even if he wasn’t yet fully conscious.

 

She shuddered as she felt the full length of his penis slide deliberately up her inner folds. The thin layers of their clothes not doing much to separate reality from dream in regards to the desires their bodies were remembering from couplings past.

 

Alistair growled out Lyna’s name in his sleep. Tightening his grip on her wrists, he continued to hunch his back and thrust against her tender flesh.

 

Well, at least she knew, he was dreaming about _her_. That helped _some_ , but it wasn’t making it any easier to disengage from the pleasures he was causing her.

 

Lyna said a quiet prayer, “ _Creators give me strength!”_

 

Realizing that she needed to turn these tables before they both did something they might later regret, Lyna bent her knees and got her feet purchased below them. With a thrust of her hips, a push off from her feet and a well-timed swivel of her body, she repositioned them so now she was on top of Alistair. Flat on his back, Alistair whimpered as he lost the friction his throbbing cock was craving.

 

Trying to regain some of his control, Alistair wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down towards his chest.

 

Lyna slowly began to extract herself from his embrace, wanting nothing more than to succumb to his want, his need. She so desired to be swept away in his dreams, but she needed him to be fully present; to know that she was really here with him. With a heavy heart--and very wet small clothes--she fully untangled herself from his vice-like grip.

 

She kissed him one last time and whispered, “My love, I _truly_ hope that we can continue this later.” On shaking limbs, Lyna finished climbing out of the bed, giving both her and Alistair space to _cool off_.

 

Alistair whimpered at the sudden loss of warmth above him but soon rolled over onto his side, snuggled into his pillow and drifted off deeper into sleep.

 

Lyna went over to build back up the fire. She desperately needed to focus on something other than the memory of Alistair’s hands and mouth on her body. Her longing still very much awake, she knew that she needed to distract herself from it to prepare for the conversation that was coming soon. She curled up in her chair to wait for him to wake up so she could finally explain things to him. The warmth of the fire and the memory of his arms around her, eventually lulled Lyna back to sleep.

 

**~*~**

 

They’d already made camp for the day and it was his turn to go find the wood for the evening’s campfire. The Ferelden weather was unforgiving, making it difficult to find dry tinder. Alistair was taking his time collecting the driest pieces he could find when he heard something wet bounce off his pauldron. Looking down at his feet, he saw a piece of fruit laying there that couldn't have fallen from the evergreen tree that he was standing next to.

 

_So this is how it’s going to be huh?_

 

Dropping his meager haul, Alistair produced his shield from his back and crouched low, scanning the area for the elf he knew was only a _fruit_ throw away.

 

He taunted his unseen predator, “Is that all you’ve got?”

 

Alistair turned swiftly to his right as he heard a rustle in the brush coming from that direction. Keeping his shield at the ready, he inched forward toward the direction of the sound. Arriving at the brush where he _knew_ she would be, he lunged behind it with a shout expecting to find Lyna, but only proceeded in scaring a rabbit into the clearing. He heard a giggle from somewhere behind him.

 

“No fair convincing the _locals_ to fight on your side!” He taunted his invisible foe. Then began his guarded approach towards the sound of the most recent giggle. Another piece of fruit bounced off his armor from the left. Recalibrating his approach, he angled slightly more to the left, never slowing his advance.   

 

Just as Alistair was about to reach the next crop of trees he saw a blur off to his right. He only had enough time to face his target head on as he felt his legs taken out from under him. Rolling with the momentum of his fall, he was able to evade his nimble attacker’s attempt to pin him to the ground, but it was at the loss of his shield. Back on his feet and in a ready stance, he faced her hand to hand. He was larger, stronger, and more heavily armored than his leather clad attacker, but he knew from experience, that wouldn’t deter her for long. She was smaller, quicker, and damn near impossible to catch when she was in motion.

 

They both crouched to attack. Eyes locked on each other, a small smirk on her lips as she readied herself to lunge at him. Alistair was prepared for once and felt cockier than usual. When she flew in his direction, he hooked his arm around her tiny waist; using her own momentum to his advantage, he bore them both to the ground.

 

Rolling once, he emerged on top of her, using the advantage of his armored weight to pin her beneath him. Somehow he managed to get both of her hands secured in his grip above her head. He parted her legs with his knees and settled himself between them. The leather of her breeches providing only moderate protection against the pain of his tassets digging into the flesh of her inner thighs.

 

Half wondering where this more adept and cocksure side of himself had come from, he embraced his new bravado. “Trying to catch me unawares I see?” He kissed her on her chin then her neck before continuing, “It didn’t work out quite so well for you _this time_ did it?” He kissed his way to her full pouty lips and flicked his tongue over the top, pulling away when she tried to kiss him back. He felt her struggle half-heartedly in his grip as he dipped his head down and kissed between her breasts.

 

“You got lucky this time.” She said breathlessly, “I won’t make it quite so easy the next t...” Her retort was cut short when Alistair ran his tongue along her skin.  He left a wet trail all the way back up to her neck, then blew cool air over the dampness eliciting a sharp intake of breath from his captive.

 

“Taking it easy on me, is it?” He began to kiss his way towards her ear as he talked. “I don’t think... I’ll be playing so nice.” He ran the tip of his nose over her earlobe and inhaled deeply before letting his breath tickle her sensitive skin as he exhaled, “Mmmm you smell so good” He wrapped his lips around that tender flesh and suckled eagerly. “You taste… so fucking amazing.” He growled with feral hunger.

 

He wasn’t used to being so forward, but this confidence and newfound dominance was surely getting a reaction out of Lyna. If only they weren’t wearing quite so much armor. That would have to soon be remedied.

 

She moaned his name but it came out sounding more like a question, “Alistair?”

 

Lyna whimpered as he nibbled his way up the outer ridge of her ear, but wasn’t about to give in just yet. She writhed beneath his thrusting hips and attempted to wriggle her wrists out of his grasp again only to have him tighten his grip and growl her name before grinding the thick shaft of his cock roughly against her sex. He pondered briefly just when they removed the heaviest parts of their armor, his wool breeches met only with her lighter cotton pantaloons, allowing him to feel her wetness beneath him. He wasn’t complaining mind you, it was much more pleasurable this way. She rocked her hips up to meet him and wrapped one leg around his waist trapping them both together.

 

Suddenly Alistair found himself flipped around and trapped beneath his beloved. Her eyes no longer held the playfulness and joy that he’d come to expect in them.

 

“Alistair, what do you think you are doing?” He was trying to place the anger and detachment in her voice. She _never_ talked to him that way.

 

“Get, over me Alistair. How could you ever think that I would fall in love with you?” He was trying to wrap his head around why she was suddenly pushing him away, what just happened?

 

“You were useful for a time, yes. You helped me burn off some steam and were fun to play with. But _this_ was never going to go anywhere. There are stronger men out there; more courageous with much more to offer someone of my... caliber.”

 

He stared at her in shock.

 

_Ouch!_ Alistair had never known Lyna to be so cruel. What was going on? Lyna looked the same but was somehow different. It was almost as if a shadow had overtaken her. Her normally brightly bronzed skin, now looked darkened with contempt and something--almost sinister. Her eyes were darker too, the normal laugh lines that lightened her face were all drawn down in her now scowling features.

 

“I need someone who can keep up with me Alistair. Someone willing to lead. Someone strong enough to stand up to his sister, Loghain, and even Morrigan. You could never be that someone. Just look at you, too drunk to even take care of yourself.”

 

_Drunk? Is this really happening? I never drank when we were in camp? Oghren did enough of that for all of us! I must be dreaming. Please tell me I’m only dreaming!_

 

“You’re Pathetic! Just look at you! No wonder your parents didn’t want you. Even Arl Eamon could only stand to live with you for 10 years. I bet he was thankful to get rid of you when he sent you off to the Chantry. You never had any friends there either, did you? Who would befriend the bastard prince of Ferelden? As if you could ever rule this country. What a joke!”

 

_Wow, really? Even in my worst nightmares, she’d never been so heartless when she pushed me away. Maybe she’s right though. Maybe I am less than nothing. I was a fool to think she actually loved me. Who could ever love me? I’m just a fool. Not even safe in my own dreams anymore. I need this to stop!  Please Maker, make it stop!_

 

“Alistair, just grow up. Morrigan was right about you. What was I thinking?”

 

The Lyna in his dream had fully extracted herself from his embrace. The air between them, cold as ice with her malice and his shame. He collapsed into himself on the ground. Burying his head in his arms to try to hide from his own mind. He knew now, without a doubt, that he was dreaming, but her words echoed through straight to his core. They cut just as deeply as if they were real. He didn’t deserve her. He didn’t know how to live without her, but she was probably very happy now without him to drag her down. The world needed her, but no-one needed Alistair.

 

He curled himself into a ball on his side, burrowing his head into something soft on the forest floor. Praying, wishing, hoping that it would stop soon. He whimpered softly until finally--blissfully--he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

 

 


	12. Waking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

**Waking Up**

* * *

****

Alistair woke slowly, unsure of where he was or how exactly he’d gotten there. He realized that he was laying on something soft; not the cold hard ground of the alleyway that he usually woke up in or the slightly softer ground of the forest floor which he’d been dreaming of. His head was throbbing and he wasn’t yet ready to open his eyes, so he ventured to explore with his other senses first. The room was quiet with just the sound of a fire popping nearby. The air was warm and smelled of lavender and leather oil with a hint of something else familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. In trying to piece together his surroundings, he realized that he was laying on… a bed? He couldn't remember the last time he slept in a bed.

 

 _Ok Alistair, now you have to open your eyes, if only to figure out where in Thedas you are_.

 

He reached up to rub his face in preparation for the inevitable eye opening. Not that he wanted to open his eyes, mind you. He’d been having some very incredible dreams; wonderful, exciting, delicious even, well, they were at the beginning anyway. He would try hard to forget the terrible way they always turned out, but the way they started was usually _very nice_.

 

Rubbing his face, he noticed something else. He was clean! Alistair opened his eyes then and fought through the grit they felt like they were coated in while bracing himself against the light that burned them. Once he was able to focus, he looked in wonder at his hands and arms. They weren’t covered in the layer of grime that they’d been of late. They were mostly pink and his freckles were once again visible, not hidden beneath the many layers of filth. Even his nails were clean!

 

_What’s going on? If my head wasn’t throbbing so badly, I’d say I was still dreaming. Or dead._

 

He rolled his head to the left and gazed around the room to ascertain the details of his surroundings. His armor was stacked neatly against the far wall. It had been cleaned, repaired, and polished with his shield--Duncan’s shield--uncovered, facing him. It’d been so long since he’d looked upon the griffon blazoned across its surface; a symbol of grace, strength, and duty. It was a painful reminder of all he left behind, so he’d covered it in his shame. He was no longer the person Duncan recruited so long ago.

 

_What would my old mentor think of me if he saw me now?_

 

With a heavy sigh, Alistair sat up to better assess the rest of his surroundings. He closed his eyes to let his head stop spinning then opened them again and noticed a chest at the foot of the bed with a small stack of clothes on top of it. Just past the chest to the right was the door. To the left of the door, was a small table with two chairs. On the table sat a tray full of food.

 

_Is that cheese?_

Now he knew he must be dreaming! He hadn’t eaten cheese in such a long time. He really only ever bothered to eat anything at all when the bar maid, Norah, or one of the other patrons took pity on him. Alistair pondered the tray before him, but realized that his stomach was still too queasy from his recent adventures to try to eat. He decided to come back to it later, after he finished his inspection of the room.

 

Centered along the wall to the left of the bed was the fireplace, it was then that he noticed a familiar figure curled up in a large overstuffed chair near the fire. His breath caught in his throat and his heart jumped in his chest. Alistair reached up and touched the lump on the back of his head then slowly laid back down on his pillow with a sigh.

 

_Apparently, that part, wasn’t a dream after all._

 

He remembered thinking that Lyna entered the tavern with Zevran last night, but he convinced himself that it was only his mind playing tricks on him again. It’d been an awful day for his _sightings_. They’d been worse than usual driving him to retreat to the Hanged Man far earlier than normal to try and blot _her_ out of his mind.

 

In each of his attempts to try to talk to the persons wearing her face, he realized that they were all wrong. None of them were her. When the most recent sat down across from him at his table, it was all he could do to keep his eyes closed to what he knew must have been yet another deception of his mind. He tried to convince the stranger to leave him to his peace, but then she spoke; that voice; _her_ voice. He vaguely remembered jumping up in surprise before his world went black.  

 

Alistair propped himself up again with his hands. He let the blanket pool at his waist while he tried to piece together the bits of his missing memory from that evening. There were brief flashes of soft voices talking over him. His armor and clothes being systematically removed. Looking closer at himself, he noticed that he was wearing clean breeches that were unfamiliar to him, yet they fit comfortably enough. His chest was clean and bare to the warm air in the room. He vaguely remembered familiar, gentle hands washing his body; _rather thoroughly_ , he thought with a blush.  

 

Looking back at his armor, he realized that she must have been the one to tend to it. That had to have taken her several hours to get it to shine like that. He couldn't remember the last time it had looked so good. Before the Landsmeet maybe? That seemed like forever ago, but was it really? He couldn’t remember. Next, he noticed Lyna’s old traveling armor stacked neatly on the other side of her chair, also gleaming in the firelight.

 

_How long was I unconscious?_

 

He let his eyes drift back to Lyna still sleeping soundly in the chair. She was wearing only soft cotton breeches and a light tunic. Her head was resting at an odd angle on her own shoulder. Alistair reached up and rubbed his own neck at the thought of how stiff her neck was going to be when she woke up. He allowed his eyes to linger on her beautiful face. His fingertips tingled with the memory of tracing the deep red lines of her Vallaslin which circled around her eyes. Those piercing sea-green eyes that used to look at him like the sun rose and set with him each day. Her lips were drawn down into the relaxed frown of sleep. Touching his own lips, he remembered how sweet she tasted and how her smile could lift his spirits, no matter how dire their situation.  

 

Alistair remembered her silky brown hair tied back into a tail behind her head with its wisps framing the creamy softness of her cheeks. Now however, it was hanging long and loose, cascading over her shoulders.  Its waves drawing his eyes down towards the plunging neckline of her shift. He blushed at the swells revealed by her loose clothing but focused on the leather pouch he found peeking out just below her ripe bosom.

 

_Is that the same pouch that she kept the rose I gave her in? Does she still have it after all this time?_

 

He questioned the reasoning behind her still wearing that necklace while following its leather cord back up her slender neck. Watching her take a few breaths, his thoughts diverged when his eyes drifted up to the delicate tips of her ears peeking out from beneath her hair. He’d been having the most wonderful dream about having her in his arms again. The smell of her hair, the taste of her skin under his lips. He loved tasting the tips of those ears. He always enjoyed how sensitive they were, how touching them could make her moan his name in ecstasy. He licked his lips in remembrance and was surprised to find the saltiness of her skin upon them.

 

_Wasn’t I dreaming? Or did really lay here with him while I slept? And if she was here in my arms, why was she across the room now?_

His arms ached for her. His body craved the feeling of her pressed up against him, enveloping his senses and comforting his aching heart. The pain in his chest overwhelmed him as he realized why she would leave his embrace; if she had in fact, been there in the first place. She didn’t want him, didn’t believe in him. She made it plain for all to see at the Landsmeet; she would rather fight beside that traitor, Loghain and put his conniving daughter on the throne than have to coddle and care for pathetic little Alistair.  

 

Looking down at his clean body again then over at his armor, he realized that’s just what she did here as well. She’d cleaned him up and took care of his neglected armor because he was incapable of doing it himself.

_Is that why she came? Out of duty? Pity? Out of some feeling of obligation to Duncan to take care of me?’_

 

Alistair grunted as the truth of this realization washed over him. It was apparent, the last time he saw her, that he wasn’t someone she wanted to be with. He wasn’t worthy of her. The thought made him start looking around the room for a drink but he didn’t see one. The pain was too much. His heart was racing, he needed to calm down, catch his breath and focus. He gripped the sheets in his fists tightly to stop them from shaking. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; then another; and another. His breaths were too loud to his ears in the silence of the room.

 


	13. True Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

 

**True Confessions**

* * *

 

Lyna woke to find Alistair sitting up in bed with his hands clenched in the bedding on either side of him. His eyes were screwed shut and his face was pinched in pain. He seemed to be focusing on his labored breathing, but if it was to help with dizziness, nausea, or pain, she couldn’t tell.

 

“Alistair?” She asked tentatively as she rubbed at her stiff neck. She thought she heard him whisper her name, but his eyes never opened and he went back to his breathing.

 

“Alistair… are you--alright?”

 

He took another shaky breath and responded through clenched teeth. “I haven’t been alright since the Landsmeet. Why are you here?”

 

He still hadn’t opened his eyes, so Lyna got up to put some water on for tea. As she kept her hands busy, she began with what she rehearsed, “I searched all over Ferelden for you. I couldn’t leave it how we left off.” She faltered as she realized that what she had rehearsed wasn’t quite right. “I needed… wanted to… I owe you…”

 

Alistair’s voice turned cold. “You don’t owe me anything.  Why… are… you… here?” He opened his eyes now and looked straight at her; blocked, guarded. The silence stretched between them.

 

_Does he truly hate me this much?_

If he did, she felt she deserved no less. She sighed inwardly and finished preparing two cups of tea. His gaze followed her every move. She didn’t notice his eyebrows furrow when she added the restorative powders that Zevran laid out for her into one of the cups. She set _that_ cup down next to him and took a sip of her own before realizing that Alistair was staring distrustfully at the errant cup.

 

She sighed in frustration, “You hit your head pretty hard, those powders should help with the pain.”  

 

When he still didn’t touch his cup, she picked it back up and set hers down in its place. Taking a drink from his cup, she sat back down in the chair by the fire before trying again. “Alistair, I never meant for any of this to happen.”  

 

She heard him grunt in disgust, but noticed that he picked up the other cup, so she continued, “I never planned on being thrust into leading the charge against the darkspawn. I was never prepared to be one of the only two remaining Grey Wardens fighting the blight. I couldn’t have imagined that through all the fighting and helping people, that I would become so dependent on having you at my side. Your humor and kindness kept the dark away and gave me the strength to make the hard decisions; to carry on.”  

 

She felt a tear slide down her cheek and wiped it away before taking a shaky breath and finishing her tea to help sooth her nerves.

 

Setting down her cup, she brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She then continued almost to herself, “I never expected to fall so completely and totally in love with you; and when I found out that one of us would have to die to defeat the Archdemon…” Lyna heard him gasp at her revelation.

 

_Did he not know?_

 

“I just couldn’t do it and I _knew_ you would never let me make the sacrifice myself.”

 

Alistair interrupted her, “I would have gladly died for you.” Speaking into his cup, he said to himself, “I still would.” He drained the last of his tea and set the cup back down.

 

Curiosity getting the better of him, he asked, “What are you talking about though, Lyna? Why would one of us need to die for the blight to end?”

 

“Morrigan told me...” She began and Alistair immediately closed his eyes and groaned while laying his head back down on the pillow.

 

“Of course, anything awful _always_ has to start with Morrigan!”

 

Lyna continued defensively, “Riordan confirmed what she told me after the Landsmeet. I thought… I assumed, that Duncan already shared this particular _Warden Secret_ with you and you just didn’t want to break the news to me.”

 

“What news is this that I am already supposed to know? Maybe it’s my hangover, or the lump on my head, but you aren’t making any sense.” Alistair lamented over his slow wit at this particular moment.

 

Lyna took a deep breath to collect her thoughts. “Remember when we went after Flemeth’s Grimoire and brought it back to camp for Morrigan?”

 

Alistair looked over at her, cocked an eyebrow and nodded before resting his head again.  

 

She continued, “I was so nervous to tell her that we didn’t actually kill her mother like she wanted us to. I knew she would see right through me.” Lyna shuddered at the memory.

 

“None of you would come with me to give her the book, so I asked Zevran for a bottle of his Antivan wine to take over to her fire with me for back up. It turned out that it was mostly unnecessary, but without it, I may not have discovered this particular _secret_ the way that I did. Morrigan was so grateful at having the grimoire, she had seemed genuinely surprised that anyone would go out of their way to do anything like that for her. I’d never seen her so relaxed; so grateful. It was very un-Morrigan like of her.”

 

Alistair snorted in disbelief but didn’t interrupt.

 

“We talked and drank and after a while she caught me gazing over at you by the camp’s main fire. She asked me whether I truly believed that I was in love with you.” Lyna blushed at the admission.

 

“When I answered without hesitation that I was, she had said that it was a pity that it couldn’t last. At first, I thought that she was just being Morrigan, but after more wine, I finally got her to explain herself. She told me that Flemeth sent her along to help us with the Archdemon, that we would need her for something specific, though she wouldn’t elaborate on that point. That’s when she told me why a Grey Warden must be the one to kill an Archdemon.”

 

She paused and looked over at Alistair, “Duncan never told you why that was?”

 

He shook his head _no,_ where it lay on the pillow.

 

“It’s not because we’re braver, faster, stronger, or smarter. It’s because our taint draws the old god’s soul into us when it dies. Destroying it and the Warden who strikes the fatal blow. If anyone but a Warden were to strike it down, the soul would flow into the nearest darkspawn and rise again. The blight would continue. That was why Flemeth saved you and I from the Tower of Ishal that day in Ostagar. Two Wardens meant that one of us would survive to carry on; to rebuild the Grey Wardens after the blight ended.”

 

Lyna shuddered at the memory that changed everything for her, “When I left Morrigan’s fire that night, I was so upset…”

 

Alistair interrupted, speaking quietly, “You came to bed crying and wouldn’t tell me why. You clung to me so tightly. All I could do was hold you until you cried yourself to sleep. I figured it was a result of Morrigan being her cruel, heartless, self again.” Alistair sighed then admitted, “Lyna, I had no idea. Duncan never told me any of this.”

 

She nodded, “The next morning, I knew that I needed a plan. I knew that if it came down to you or me, you would be too damn stubborn to let me go. I didn’t want you to die.  Creators, I didn’t want to die either! I know it’s selfish, but I couldn’t... I still can’t... imagine a world without you in it. We’ve given up so much, sacrificed everything for this battle thrust upon us and there we were, finally finding our own shade of happiness and I was asked to decide: you… or me.  And I… I couldn’t do it!” She shook her head in vehemence.

 

Alistair quoted, “In War, Victory; In Peace, Vigilance; In Death, Sacrifice.”

 

“I know. I know! But with Riordan’s intervention, another solution presented itself and after the thought took shape inside my head, I couldn’t see it any other way. After what _he_ did to us, to your brother, to Duncan, to all of the soldiers and mages--Loghain needed to die.” Lyna’s voice grew cold and hard remembering the battle that followed.

 

“Pushing you away, then fighting that fight, was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. You were always at my side before. I trusted you implicitly, but then you were gone and probably hated me, for good reason. Fighting next to Loghain, I expected him to turn on me as much as kill the enemy. I was exhausted from looking over my shoulder all the time.”

 

A cruel smile played across her lips, “Knowing that arrogant bastard had to take orders from me was gratifying, I’ll admit. In the end, it was easy to order him to sacrifice himself. A part of me enjoyed being the one to send him to his death. Seeing him finally laying cold and lifeless at my feet, after all he did to us and took from us; it left me with a small measure of satisfaction.”

 

 


	14. Coming Home Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

 

**Coming Home Again**

* * *

 

Alistair got up to make more tea while she’d been speaking, but stopped as she described her feelings for Loghain’s death. He wanted so badly to understand why she did it.

 

“Why didn’t you talk _to me?_ ” He asked; hurt, pain, and anger clear in his voice. “We could have faced it _together_.” He finished in a whisper.

 

Lyna lowered her head to her knees. She had an answer, but it didn’t really matter now.  

 

Giving her a moment to collect herself, Alistair asked, “Do you have any more of those powders?” Lyna indicated the small pouch next to the tray on the table and he began to make more tea for them.

 

“I should have talked to you, I know.” She finally admitted. “I didn’t really have time to confer with you once the idea took shape during the Landsmeet. Everything happened so fast, but had we been able to discuss it, I didn’t believe that you would want to go along with my plan. I was only grasping at straws; I didn’t even know if it would work. So many things could still go wrong. What if Loghain didn’t survive the joining? Should Riordan and Loghain fail at killing the Archdemon, it would have still come down to you or me to kill that thing. And I’m sorry, but the world wouldn’t mourn over another dead elf. But losing the last of the Theirin bloodline? That was--and is still--unthinkable to me.”

 

Lyna shook her head as if trying to clear the memories to help her explain, “There was a time when I thought there was nothing that you and I couldn’t face together. This seemed so black and white. You _or_ me. It was a cruel twist the fates laid before us and yet, I believed I could outwit them. Neither one of us would need to die and the monster responsible for all the pain we suffered since we met: the loss of our friends, family, and loved ones, _he_ would ultimately pay for it all. For everything. That traitor!” She took a breath to get control of her rarely seen anger.

 

When she was calm again, she continued, “Alistair, I am so sorry. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me. I know I don’t deserve it. I just couldn’t let you go on without knowing the reasoning behind me sending you away. I took the coward's way out before, but I wanted to be able to explain why now. To tell you how incredible you are. I needed you to hear, for what it’s worth, that I believe that you are so much more than what was thrown at you during the Landsmeet. You never deserved the upbringing you had with Eamon and Isolde then being sent to Templar training. You’ve been through so much, you deserve to live, to be happy. I couldn’t let you die in the battle with the Archdemon, and I wasn’t about to let Anora take your life either. I thought maybe, pushing you away wouldn’t be as bad.  You’d be further away from the blighted lands; away from Loghain; safe.” The last was said with a defeated sigh.

 

“But, I’d also be away from you.” He handed her a fresh cup of tea which she accepted with a weak smile.  

 

“It is _my_ life Lyna, don’t you think I should have a say in how, where, or with whom I choose to live it?”

 

She nodded slowly, opening her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her with another question; asked with more hurt than anger.

 

“Do you think that I have such poor decision making skills that I couldn’t be trusted with my own future?”

 

Lyna closed her eyes and shook her head no. Once again she tried to speak when he cut her off.

 

“You’re right, I never would have left the fight if I didn’t think you no longer wanted me. I would have gladly faced down the Archdemon to keep you safe, damn the consequences.”

 

Now Lyna could hear more anger coming through his words. She saw it in his body language: his shoulders tense and hunched forward, his brow furrowed, and his eyes blazing. She swallowed as her remorse built.

 

“I may play the jester, my love; but I am _no fool_. If you only talked with me, I may have agreed with your plan to let Loghain fight with us. But I wasn’t given the chance. I was sent away from my homeland and found myself running from my memories of you. I couldn’t figure out what I’d done to cause you to turn away from me. I kept thinking back to our time together, looking for any reason _why_ , but I couldn’t find one. I was hurt, angry, and more alone than I’d ever been before.”

 

Alistair sighed at a sudden realization. “Why wouldn’t you doubt my ability to think for myself? To make decisions.” He looked around the room to take stock of all she’d done while he was unconscious. He looked over toward his armor; Duncan’s shield glimmered at him. “You took the reins when I was too despondent over Duncan’s death to think straight. You collected an army to fight at our backs; Mages, Dwarves, and Elves all ready to fight side by side--all because of you. You saved Arl Eamon by finding the fabled Ashes of Andraste. You don’t even pray to the Maker, yet your belief in the cause carried us through where the truly devout had failed. You have done so much for so many, while I just… tagged along.” Alistair sighed as he knelt before Lyna still curled up in the chair.  

 

She shook her head and appeared to want to argue when Alistair continued on, “I never stood a chance. I think I fell in love with you when we met back in Ostagar. I’ll never forget that day. I was sent by the Revered Mother to deliver that message to the mage, talk about uncomfortable. I still think the old biddy did it on purpose.” Alistair chuckled dryly at the memory. “Even then, you didn’t balk at my bad jokes, you just went along with them. I was flummoxed and flailing at first, then we just sort of fell into an easy banter, it calmed my nerves and I knew then that I was lost. There’s just something about you, you show up and just make it--all better.”   

 

Tears glistened in Lyna’s eyes at Alistair’s confession.

 

“But it didn’t stop there. When I wanted to find that greedy Goldana, you brought me to her; then ended up defending me to my bitch of a sister. You took the time to reassure me after; to make sure I knew I was worth more than money. You were my first, my only, and then…” He stopped to take a deep breath as even he could hear the tears welling up in his voice. “Then I was alone. So incredibly alone and heartbroken. Now here you are, _swooping_ in to rescue me again.” He tentatively reached up and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

 

“I don’t know how to go on without you.” Alistair leaned forward and dropped his head onto Lyna’s curled knees. “It seems you are always saving me. From the demons in the fade, from the darkspawn, and now from myself. No wonder you didn’t talk to me.” There was a bleakness in his voice that touched on Lyna’s guilt far more than his railing at her could have.

 

_Does he really believe that I think so little of him?_

 

Lyna ran her hand through his hair, savoring the familiar coarse feeling of his spiky locks. With a cautious smile on her lips, she said to him, “Swooping, my heart… is bad.”

 

Alistair chuckled then lifted his head to gaze into her captivating eyes, leaving his hands resting on her knees. He was relieved that she didn’t pull away from his touch. “Usually, yes, but apparently sometimes, it’s necessary. Thank you, by the way.” He glanced over towards his armor then down at himself before catching her eye again.

 

She shrugged and nodded, “I needed to keep my hands busy, and you… were filthy.” She blushed remembering his recent sponge bath.   

 

“Well, I didn’t have anyone to impress, and it was easy to fall back into old habits. I was raised by dogs, y’know. Speaking of, where’s Pup?” He looked around the room expecting to see their old companion curled up sleeping somewhere.  

 

Lyna’s eyes fell and she choked back a sob, “He... fell to the Archdemon,” she finished with a whisper.

 

“Oh Lyna, I am so sorry.” He hesitated only a moment before wrapping his arms around her in a comforting hug. She felt so right in his arms. He never wanted to let her go, but things were still so uncertain.  

 

With his chin resting on top of her head, Alistair asked, “So where does all of this leave us?” He relinquished his hold and sat back on his heels while he waited for her response.    

 

Lyna sighed at the absence of his touch. It made sense for him to try to comfort her over the loss of Pup, but the brief hug wasn’t enough. She shouldn’t expect more though; she knew she didn’t deserve it. “I… don’t know honestly. I’ve been chasing after rumors of you for so long; not knowing what I’d find when I did finally catch up to you. My goal was to bare my soul to you and tell you the truth behind my actions. I only needed you to hear why I did what I did, to make sure you knew that none of it was because of anything you did. I don’t think I’ve left anything out, but I’d be happy to answer any questions you may have. You’ve been more than patient listening to me. You deserve, so much more.”

 

Alistair was lost in her eyes.

_She’s really here! She hasn’t shied away from my touches or admissions of weakness and needing her so badly in my life. I was so angry before, but all I feel now is whole. Shouldn’t I still be upset?_

 

Lyna paused and watched a myriad of emotions cross over Alistair's face. As the silence lengthened, she grew more disheartened and took his silence for apathy.

 

_What was she saying about needing to find me only to tell me why she pushed me away? Was she asking for forgiveness? Is that it? Is she leaving again now that she told me? I don’t know if I could handle her leaving again. Maker please don’t let her go! Speak up you fool! Don’t let her go! Beg if you have to!_

 

Alistair was having trouble getting his voice to cooperate for once.

 

Lyna took a resolute breath, “Look, I understand that you don’t trust me anymore. Creators, if I were in your place, I wouldn’t trust me either. I took what we had and threw it away. Regardless of my selfish reasons, I don’t deserve anything more than you letting me finally explain. I’m not sure I even deserved that. But, I will always be grateful for it, so--thank you.”

 

Alistair was still frozen, staring at her, but she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.

 

_She thinks she’s undeserving? How could she be undeserving? I certainly don’t deserve such a wonderfully amazing woman. I’ve never known anyone so beautiful and thoughtful. Her smile could brighten even a cloudy day. Oh that I could see her smile again. Why is she frowning? We’ve been so lost for so long. Don’t we deserve to smile? I want to make her smile again. Could I? Would she let me? My heart has hurt for so long, I want to trust again, to be happy and feel like I’m home again, with her. Alistair, why aren’t you telling her any of this? Normally you never shut up!_

 

Lyna looked around the room and began to fidget at his silence. Taking it as disinterest she offered all she had left, “The room is paid up through the week. It’s all yours.” She began to harden herself to what was to come next, she only had one more confession before she could let it go.

 

_We have the room for a week? That’s wonderful! A soft bed, together and… why does she still look unhappy? Crap, I still haven’t said anything. She probably thinks I’m still angry. Am I? No! Yes? It doesn’t matter, it won’t matter if she leaves. Please don’t let her leave! Tell her not to leave! Tell her!!! Snap out of it damnit, you’re going to lose the only ray of hope you’ve ever had!_

 

She hesitated only a moment before telling him, “Alistair, what I did was unforgivable. I am sorrier than I can express with words. I miss you, I will _always_ love you--”

 

_She still loves me! If you’re not going to talk then do something damnit! Show her you still love her too!_

 

“--but I don’t deserve you. I…”

 

Clarity snapped into Alistair’s eyes at her declaration of love. Her next words were cut off by his lips on hers. His hands cupped her face so gently that you’d think she was made of glass. At first his kiss was sweet, tentative, but when he felt her arms wrap around him, it relaxed and deepened.  

 

He parted her lips with his tongue and sought to taste her, to breath her in. He needed to know that she was real, she was here, and not just his cruel imagination playing tricks on him again.  

 

Alistair felt awake for the first time in an incredibly long time. He needed her, more than food, more than drink. He pulled back and looked into her gorgeous eyes, searching for some form of rebuke at his attentions, but all he found there was pure adoration and maybe a little disbelief.  

 

He knew that he should probably still be mad at her. He knew that he was just a foolish, lovesick, exiled, bastard that didn’t deserve this incredibly beautiful and headstrong woman before him. But he also knew that he needed her like the sun and air he breathed. She was _everything_ to him and he would be everything for her as long as she would have him.

 

He didn’t realize that he was just sitting there, drinking her in when she spoke trying to catch her breath, “Alistair, what is it?” She touched his cheek, wiping away the tears he didn’t realize he’d been shedding.

 

Finally finding his voice he said, “I’ve missed you so much. I’m having a hard time believing that you’re real.” Lyna uncurled her legs from the chair and placed her feet on the floor, one on either side of his hips. She pulled him in close and kissed each of his eyes then his nose before placing a chaste kiss upon his lips.

 

Pressing her body to his, she looked into his eyes. “I am most definitely here. I can’t believe that you haven’t turned me away. I… didn’t expect, this. She bit her bottom lip before claiming his again. She kissed him deeply, putting all of her love and hope into that kiss.  

 


	15. Rekindled Passions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

**Rekindled Passions**

* * *

Coming up for air, Alistair decided to ask something that’d been niggling at the back of his mind. “When I was...asleep, I thought I was dreaming that you were laying in my arms. But when I woke, you were over here sleeping in this chair. Did I… dream it?” He touched his lips with his finger tips and looked at her expectantly.

 

Lyna’s ears turned red as she laid her head on Alistair’s bare shoulder. She gently ran her fingertips across his back as she spoke, “You were having a nightmare. When I came over to sooth you, you grabbed my hand and wouldn’t let go. I decided to lay down next to you until the dream passed, but… I ended up falling asleep. By the time I woke, the fire had burned low and your arms were around me.”  

 

She pulled back to kiss him gently on the cheek before continuing, “I thought you were awake at first. You were being um… quite attentive.  Then I realized, that you were only dreaming. I wanted you… but I couldn’t let it continue while you weren’t entirely present. I knew we needed to talk first. I wanted you to be able to _consciously_ decide if you still wanted this, though I didn’t dare hope.”

 

Alistair confessed, “When I woke up and found you asleep across the room, yet I could still smell you on me and taste you on my lips, I was worried about what happened. I assumed you were…” He lowered his eyes at the memory and whispered, “repulsed by my affections.”

 

Lyna chuckled and wrapped her legs around Alistair’s hips as she pulled him even closer for emphasis, “Creators, no! Pulling myself from your touch was excruciating. Being with you, touching you and being touched by you, was something I’ve been too afraid to even hope for again. Yet, here we are.”  

 

She kissed his shoulder, neck, jaw, then lips to punctuate each of her next words, “You… are… far… from… repulsive.”  She finished at his earlobe and worked a moan from his lips as she nibbled her way up the outer ridge of his deliciously sensitive ears.

 

Pulling back, Lyna grinned at Alistair who seemed to be having trouble focusing. “I think I owed you that from earlier.” She shivered in remembrance of how he had worked her ears in his sleep. She nipped at his ear again causing him to jerk in her arms.

 

“I’ve always found it fascinating that your ears are almost as sensitive as mine. I’ve been told that it’s only an _elf_ thing.” She sucked on his earlobe as he melted further into her.

 

He moaned again and tried to find his voice. He managed to rasp, “Perhaps, it’s because you bring out the best in me.” He pulled his ear away from her teasing and tried to clear his head. He settled on seeking her mouth instead.  

 

“Mmm, Maker! How I’ve missed you” He needed to be sure that she felt the same way, “Lyna, I need you so badly. I want you, but I can’t do this lightly. You are my one, my heart, my only. Losing you broke something inside of me. I don’t like who it made me, but I don’t want this to be a one-time thing either. I need to know that we can work on us again. I love you so much. I don’t know what we’ll do or where we’ll go but, I know that if we face it together, I’m willing to fight for us.”

 

Lyna kissed him again and when she pulled away she reassured him, “Alistair, my love. I have been a shadow of myself since I forced you out the door and away from me. I am so incredibly sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you. I don’t want to ever be without you. I know I don’t deserve it, but if you’re willing to give me another chance…” She let the thought hang, daring to hope for the first time in almost a year.

 

Alistair looked at the woman in his arms and just couldn’t believe she was here. He smiled and found his smile reflected back at him. He’d been so lost for so long. This was right, they were together and wherever life took them, they would be _home_.  

 

Keeping her wrapped around him, Alistair shifted so his feet were beneath him, he lifted Lyna’s tiny form up out of the chair and carried her over to the bed. She giggled as he lifted her into the air and his lips sought hers once again. Her delight was quickly overshadowed by her desire.  

 

Alistair laid her down on the bed, her head gently on the pillow he’d woken up on just a short while ago. He continued to kiss her, moaning her name as he pressed himself on top of her. He kissed her jaw and worked his way over to her ear. “Turnabout is fair play, my love.” He whispered sweetly, then proceeded to exact his revenge.  

 

She moaned and squirmed beneath him, their playfulness swept away in the throes of passion. His kisses becoming more urgent, her hands roaming, grabbing, and clawing at his exposed flesh. His engorged cock straining against the confines of his breeches.  

 

He looked into her eyes; her pupils dilated with need and desire. He knew she would see the same reflected back at her. Maker he wanted this woman so badly. Needed to be fully engulfed by her, possessed by her. He was hers without a doubt and she was his.  

 

He ground himself against the taut muscles of her thigh. He left a trail of kisses, nips and licks from her ear down her neck and when he couldn’t move further without encountering the fabric of her top, he slowly kissed his way back up to her lips. Hungrily taking in her lower lip and darting his tongue back into the warm confines of her mouth.

 

Her hands didn’t stopped moving once he laid her down on the bed; through his hair, over his shoulders, back, arms, and chest. It wasn’t enough. She wanted to feel his skin on hers. His warmth against her aching flesh. His lips and tongue were dancing over her exposed skin, but he hadn’t ventured beyond what was readily available. Hadn’t moved to breach her clothing barrier yet.

 

_This just won’t do._

While their tongues danced together she sat up, pressing her hands against his chest, pushing him back as well. Once upright, she pushed him to arms reach. Worry flicked across his gorgeous honey-brown eyes, but she held them with a grin while she grabbed the hem of her chemise and--in one fluid motion--pulled it up and over her head.  

 

His eyes grew wide in appreciation as they left hers to travel down her now exposed body. He paused as he drank in the beautiful sight before him. Re-memorizing this temple that he worshipped. Fingers ghosting lightly over new scars, concern briefly flashing over his features before catching her eyes with his again. He lunged forward and kissed her hungrily, pushing her back down onto the mattress while his hands skimmed up her taut abdomen and found her breasts. Her head tipped back, releasing his lips and she moaned as he pinched one of her nipples. He kissed his way down her neck again, without her shirt in the way this time, his mouth found its way to her right breast while his hand still cupped and caressed the left. He ran his tongue lightly over her pert little nub, savoring the gasp that escaped her lips. Taking it in his mouth, he rolled the hard, pink treat around with his tongue. He let his hand take over where his mouth left off so he could attend to her other breast. She arched her back while he nipped and sucked at her delicate flesh. Grinding himself into the apex of her sex, she writhed and moaned beneath him, in answer to his need.  

 

“Alistair, please,” she begged as he kissed his way back up to her swollen lips once again. She tried to reach down to tug at their pants, but she couldn’t seem to focus. Every movement pressed them closer together, making her painfully aware of how much clothing still lay between them. “Too many clothes,” She rasped.

 

Suddenly he was gone, the absence of his body making her open her eyes to look for him. He was standing over her with his hands at her waist. Licking his lips, he quickly removed her breeches and small clothes in one deft motion, then just as quickly kicked off his own before climbing back onto the bed with her.  

 

There was so much that he wanted to do to this beautiful body before him, but right now his need was greater than his want. It’d been too long since he’d felt her warmth enveloping him. He couldn’t wait to claim her any more. Grabbing the hefty shaft of his dick, he pressed it to her mound, feeling her wetness coat the sensitive swollen head. He rubbed her from the tight opening of her pussy up to her throbbing clit and back again, slowly, slipping only the tip of himself inside of her before withdrawing and repeating the action. She whimpered beneath him, gripping the sheets in her fists and trying to roll her hips to take more of him in. He enjoyed teasing her this way, but wouldn’t be able to hold out. And tonight--right now--he didn’t want to.

 

After running the full length of his shaft up her slick folds one more time, he plunged fully inside of her, earning himself a scream of pleasure as he slid home. The sensation was maddening; he paused to get control of his senses. It would be far too easy to lose it now. He waited, and when he felt her walls relax their vice-like grip on his cock, he began to make love to her in earnest. Slowly; savoring every deliberate thrust, every roll of her hips to take him deeper, every bit of skin on skin contact. He wanted to show her how much he loved her, needed her. He needed to prove to himself that she was here and his. He put his heart into his kisses, his soul into each caress, and his need into every thrust.

 

Their eyes locked together as he withdrew, sliding almost all the way out and pausing before sliding back in again. Savoring every sensitive inch of contact until he was once again sheathed fully inside the tight confines of her core. She opened herself to take him even deeper and wrapping her hands behind his head, she pulled him down to kiss him again. Lost in each other, their hands traveled temples that were familiar, yet new again. Their bodies thrusting, arcing, moving together as one. To be one. This was right, it was perfect. They were once again whole.  

 

As waves of ecstasy came crashing over her with screams of surrender, his seed spilled inside of her, soothing their desire--for the moment. Yet still their lips and tongues danced as their heartbeats calmed and their breathing slowed. Hands continued to travel over each other’s faces, shoulders and arms; anchoring them to the moment lest they wake and learn this was all just a walk in the fade.

 

Reluctantly, Alistair withdrew out of his beloved and rolled over onto his back pulling her with him. He cradled her into the crook of his arm and she laid her head upon his shoulder. He kissed her forehead and stroked his calloused fingers over her arms as she ran her fingers tenderly across his chest and intertwined her fingers in his downy soft chest hair.  

 

Before Lyna could drift off to sleep on a cloud of her own euphoria, she heard Alistair whisper into her hair, “I love you with all of my heart, my Lyna.” Then in a softer prayer, she wasn’t sure was meant for her, “Maker, please let her still be here when I wake up.”

 

She smiled against his chest before lifting herself up to kiss his sweet lips one more time before sleep could claim her. “I love you too, my Alistair. I’m not going anywhere again, not without you by my side”

 

Wrapped in each other’s arms, they drifted off to sleep and slept better than either of them had in a very long time.  

 

 

 

 

 


	16. Conversations and Miracles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

**Conversations and Miracles**

* * *

 

Alistair woke to gentle kisses on his chest and a familiar weight laying on top of him. Wrapping his arms around his dream come true, he opened his eyes to discover the early grey of morning beginning to light up the room. The fire had once again burned down to embers, casting a flickering red glow over the dim morning light. He gazed down at the beautiful woman before him and chuckled softly as she smiled up at him. 

“You’re still here.” He said sleepily.

“I told you that I wasn’t going anywhere.” Lyna pulled herself up to be able to kiss his lips again.

As Alistair lifted his head to meet her halfway, white-hot pain shot through his head, blurring his vision. With a gasp and a groan, he laid his head back down on the pillow and threw one of his arms over his eyes to try to hide from the pain.

Lyna gently brushed her lips against his then kissed his temple before reluctantly withdrawing from the warmth of his body completely.

Alistair thrust his lip out and pouted, “Where do you think you’re going?”

Chuckling softly, Lyna padded over to stoke up the fire before putting more water on for tea.

Daring to open one eye, Alistair watched as the glow of the firelight danced across her firm, naked body; toned and muscled from battle yet soft and curved in all the right places. He reached across the bed toward her and said wistfully, “Come back, you’re too far away.”

Lyna brought the tray of food over to the bed and set it down on the bedside table. “It appears that it’s going to take more than just our lovemaking to clear your head from all of the abuses of the drink, my love.” She smiled lovingly at him as she plucked a grape off the tray and brought it to his lips. He accepted the sweet fruit and gently sucked her fingertip before relinquishing it with a kiss.

He replied, his voice husky with both pain and desire, “Yes but, just think of all the fun we’ll have trying.”

“Sustenance first, then we’ll see where the mood takes us,” She said with a smirk. Lyna moved back to the table to finish preparing their tea. Remembering his distrust from the night before, she asked, “Would you like more of the elfroot powders this morning?”

“Yes! Please! And make mine a double,” he said with a groan as he attempted to sit up in bed again.

Once upright, he asked, “Wherever did you find them?”

Lyna brought a steaming cup of tea over to Alistair and replied, “Wynne taught me how to make them so that I could help Oghren focus after one of his all-nighters. Now I always keep them in my pack and I can make more should we need them.” 

Alistair accepted the cup gratefully. He took a sip before closing his eyes and rested his head against the headboard to let the herbs take effect. Lyna sat next to him on the bed and took a sip of her own tea before setting it down near the tray of food. She silently sliced a small bit of cheese off the wedge and placed it to his lips saying, “Open”.

Without opening his eyes, he obeyed with his lips and groaned with pleasure when the sharp taste hit his tongue. He chewed it slowly, moaning in euphoria while savoring every bit of it. Alistair swallowed with a sigh. “I am a lucky, lucky man. How did you find my favorite Ferelden cheese here in Kirkwall?”

Lyna chuckled and replied, “Ah well, that, you will have to thank Zevran for; when I finally let you out of this room. Though I should remind you; I am paid up through the end of the week, so it may have to wait until I’ve had my fill of you first.” She kissed him eagerly to drive her point home.

Alistair accepted his imprisonment without complaint. Reaching up he cupping her face with his free hand and ventured to open his eyes again. He gazed at her with complete adoration. 

Tucking her hair behind one of her perfectly pointed ears, he asked, “Do I have him to thank for finding you back in my arms again as well?” Without waiting for a response, he continued, “I thought that I’d imagined the two of you walking in together last night.” He stroked her cheek, “But you are very much here, so I assume that he’s around here somewhere as well. Where is he?”

Lyna closed her eyes and savored the feel of his touch on her cheek. “I imagine that he’s in his own room at this hour. Though it is Zev, so anything is possible. His room should be just down the hall should we need him. He helped me bring you up here last night after you hit your head. While I was cleaning you up, he went and found you some clothes and brought us this tray of food as well. I didn’t know how this journey would end up. At the very least, I’d hoped to be able to explain to you what happened and slip away again should you have no longer wanted to be in my company.”

Alistair’s breath caught at the thought of her leaving again. He squeezed her hand gently, “I don’t think I’d like it if you tried to slip away again. Now that I’ve had a taste, there is so much more that I can’t wait to savor.” He winked at her then took another sip of his tea. The restorative properties of the powders soothed the pain in his head to a dull ache. “Out of curiosity though, where would you have gone?”

“I’m not entirely sure, maybe Amaranthine. I was asked to rebuild the Grey Wardens there, but I had more pressing matters to attend to first.” She leaned in to illustrate what exactly those pressing matters could be and laid a gentle kiss on Alistair’s lips before continuing. “I suppose I could always go back and try to find my clan again. I saw Merrill here last night before I found you, so it’s possible that they’re nearby. Something tells me that I wouldn’t quite fit back into that life anymore, though. So much has changed in me since I left.”

“I quite enjoy what I see.” Alistair teased her playfully while enjoying her still naked form sitting next to him.

Lyna laughed and admitted, “I didn’t really have a plan after finding you. I never really allowed myself to hope--” She laid her hand on his chest, “--to be able to touch you again. I haven’t exactly been thinking straight since I watched you walk out of the Landsmeet. Fighting was automatic; duty called and I obeyed; just going through the motions. After it was all said and done in Denerim, I only knew that I needed to find you. It was a single mindedness that likely would have gotten me killed if it weren’t for Zevran’s insistence on coming with me. He kept me grounded and focused when my mind and heart were not exactly on the here and now.” 

She met his eyes briefly with a small smile before turning back to the tray and slicing up more cheese along with some sausage. 

They took turns feeding each other while they talked. They asked one another questions and hung on to each other's answers. Reacquainting and reminiscing, their conversation came easily--as it does with best friends and soul mates. Soon the tray was empty, the tea was gone and Lyna found herself propped up against Alistair, her back nestled into his chest. His arms were wrapped around her while they talked some more; comfortable and confident in each other’s company.

After a while, there was only gentle caresses and soft murmurs of affection as they held each other longer.

Alistair ran his fingers through Lyna’s hair, completely content and happy for the first time since he’d lost her. His eyes slowly drifted closed as he held her. He knew sleep would soon claim him, but he didn’t dare move. Sitting up with his back pressed against the headboard, Lyna snuggled up against his chest. Her head resting just over his heart. Their legs intertwined, his arms wrapped around her while he ran his hands through her incredibly soft brown hair. He kissed the top of her head and breathed in her intoxicating scent; a mix of sweet and flowery, he would never tire of it. Resting his cheek against her hair, he finally let sleep claim him.

 

 

 


	17. The Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

**The Nightmare**

* * *

 

Running through the mist, Alistair couldn’t see anything. He felt like he’d lost something, or maybe he was lost, but couldn't remember. He was definitely searching and not running from whatever it was that was propelling him forward. He called out, “Hello? Where are you?” 

It must be some- _one_  he was looking for, not some- _thing_. 

He continued to search, through the dense fog. It was cold--so cold--and he felt so alone. “Hello?” He said again, but received no answer as he ran on endlessly. 

The ground around him was littered with hidden debris that crunched under his boots as he ran. The fog was so thick that he couldn't see what he kept tripping and stumbling over until he lost his footing altogether and crashed to the ground. There he came face to face with a skull; bleached clean and white from the sun. Being so close to the ground now, Alistair noticed what was crunching under his boots was not sticks and twigs or other regular forest debris; he’d been running through a field of bones. All cleaned of any flesh. They were everywhere, skulls, fingers, rib cages whole, intact; some broken with signs of battle.

The fog around him began to thin allowing him to see the vast field of carnage surrounding him. Too much death. In the distance, Alistair began to make out some of the terrain. This place. It was familiar.  _Ostagar_? He spun in a full circle, taking in everything around him. Discarded weapons and armor littered the field. The bones weren’t all human: some were elven, ogre, and various shapes of darkspawn. So many dead. 

There was a rumbling of the ground off to his left. Alistair stared as some of the bones and armor began to shift and move. From beneath them--or perhaps created from them--slowly rose a being in familiar Grey Warden armor. The image began to coalesce into a shape from his past. The only person that ever seemed to care about what  _he_  wanted. Duncan.

It was the shield that gave him away: shining brightly, blood dripping from the talons of the griffin emblazoned proudly in its center. The creature ambled forward, wearing Duncan’s armor, but not quite fully Duncan. There was too much rot, not enough flesh covering the bones in the armor. The pitch black hair speckled with silver on his head and face was matted with blood and clung to its flesh in patches. The eyes, never fully formed, leaving only two black holes where they should have been. As he limped closer, the figure raised its right arm and pointed straight at Alistair.

The creature rasped, “You!” His voice sounded like Duncan’s, only drier, more hoarse. 

Alistair blanched,  _‘me?’_

Duncan, not Duncan continued, “It was your fault we all died.”

Alistair’s heart crumbled, this was what he told himself many times since that battle at Ostagar. Lyna argued with him over the point as he argued now, “No! I was sent to light the signal fire. _You_ sent me to light it at the King’s request. Loghain-- _he_ was supposed to bring reinforcements.”

“No, Alistair, _you_ are to blame for all of this death. Look around you, if you’d been more like your father or brother; more of a leader, just… more, all of could have been prevented.”

Something in his voice rang true down to Alistair’s core. He wanted to be there, he’d begged to fight at Duncan’s side, to protect the King; his brother. There was a part of him that knew he should have fought harder to be there alongside his Warden brethren. He knew he should have been more, but was it his fault that he was raised as he was? Unwanted, unneeded, a bastard! These were things beyond his control. He tried his best to not let it bother him, to keep his spirits up, to work diligently and fight his hardest to maintain his sanity and become the best man that he was capable being. He’d finally found his place within the order. They welcomed him as a brother. He _should_ have stood and died with them. 

As if granting his wish, the gravelly voice intoned the all too familiar words. 

_“Join us brothers and sisters.”_

As it spoke, the littered bones began to knit together to form more Wardens surrounding the image that wasn’t Duncan. They all stood together facing Alistair.

_“Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant.”_

The warriors that joined the Duncan/Not-Duncan began to add their dusty voices in reciting the words from his joining. Words spoken at every new Warden’s initiation from the very first to today. 

_“Join us as we carry out the duty that cannot be forsworn.”_

Alistair began to feel a heavy vibration through his chest as the voices increased in volume and intensity. Pain increasing as each new voice joined the cacophony. Arms reaching up from beneath his feet, grabbed at his legs, tugging him down towards the nether and he was powerless to fight it. 

_“And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten.”_

Alistair looked around frantically, tried to speak, tried to call out for help - but couldn’t. He felt hopeless, helpless, trapped. This was somehow all his fault and he would die in sacrifice for it. One of the many lost through the ages. Forgotten. Just like the words said he wouldn’t be. 

_“And, that one day, we shall join you.”_

_‘Or I shall join them.’_  Feeling nothing but despair and resignation, Alistair prepared for the end. The hands still pulled at him, tugging at him as he sunk further into the mound of death. He couldn’t fight, couldn’t call out for help. Didn’t want to. There was a layer of dread blanketing all hope in his life. This was it.

From off to his right, a beam of light shone down onto a lone figure and caught his attention, stopping his descent. She was beyond beautiful! Radiant even! The epitome of hope. If only he could get to her. She was looking straight into his soul and calling out but no sound was reaching him. He began to fight against the bones and the voices willing himself to rise up out of the darkness. Inch-by-inch he began to ascend.

Focusing harder on the image before him, it became easier to move, to breathe. The lithe figure was wearing brown leather armor that seemed molded to her beautiful form. She was so familiar that he felt he must know her from somewhere. Silky brown hair with errant wisps framing her delicate face, tied back, practical for battle, showing off her delicate pointed ears.

Something about those ears tugged further at Alistair’s memory. He fought harder against the dread that was threatening to pull him under. He wanted to get closer to her, to see more of her. Whoever she was, he knew he needed her. 

She called out to him again and this time he heard her voice break though his dream barriers, “Alistair my love, wake up! Everything is ok. It’s only a dream. I’m here with you, I’ve got you. Come back to me.”

_Lyna?_  

His Lyna found him. She came for him. He’d lost all hope and yet, here she was casting her light, defeating his darkness. 

She walked towards him slowly, her arms outstretched, reaching for his hand. He began to inch his way towards her too, trudging through the limbs that still grasped at his legs and feet. Lyna was his light, pulling him in like a beacon. The bones slowly fell away beneath him. Not-Duncan and his entourage returned to the pile of dust, bones, and armor from which they came. The pain in his chest subsided and his heart began to calm; lulled into a peace that only _she_ could ever bring him. The mist gathered heavily around them as she wrapped him in her arms and kissed him gently; reassuring him that he was safe, she was there, and everything was going to be ok.

 

He sighed in relief. The weight of his dream fading with each new breath; cleansing the darkness from him. He gratefully whispered,  _“thank you”_ before drifting back into a blissfully dreamless sleep, safe within her arms.

 


	18. Morning Affections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

 

**Morning Affections**

* * *

 

Lyna slowly became aware of feather light kisses on her bare shoulder and gentle calloused fingers ghosting over the smooth curves of her hips. Snuggling in closer to Alistair, she wrapped her arms around his strong body and looked into his adoring eyes. 

“Mmm, good morning to you too, my love.” She dipped her chin and was rewarded with a  _very_  passionate kiss: slow, deep, sensual. The perfect wake-up kiss. Alistair was always very attentive first thing in the morning. His kisses and caresses never stayed chaste and innocent. Thankfully, neither of them had anywhere pressing to be, so spending it together ‘reacquainting’ themselves with each other, seemed like a perfect way to spend the day.

Lyna ran her fingers through Alistair’s sleep tousled hair. She gazed lovingly into those beautiful eyes that seemed to reach clear into her soul. 

_How can this one man make me feel so whole and complete?_  

He returned her look of pure adoration but his also sparkled with a bit of mischief which made Lyna raise an eyebrow in question.

He answered with a playful grin as he rolled her flat onto her back and began his attack on her extremely sensitive ears.

“Oh!” Was all Lyna managed to say as Alistair pressed his body up against hers and went to work on her tender lobes. He ran his tongue deliberately up the outer ridge of her ear and flicked his tongue against the pointed tip causing her to gasp with excitement. Grabbing both of her hands in his left, he held them deftly above her head while his right hand worked at her other lobe. 

Lyna was lost to his tongue, teeth, fingers, and lips as he worked both of her ears simultaneously. Writhing in response to his attentions, she couldn’t form a coherent thought and only knew that she didn’t want him to stop. 

The sensations he was eliciting from her body by touching nothing more than her ears, was almost criminal; yet, incredibly delicious. Lyna craved more. It wouldn’t take him long to work her to her height this way. He knew just which buttons to push and how exactly to stroke them to bring her over the edge quickly and completely. She moaned louder as she neared the precipice. Alistair responded with moans of his own, the vibrations adding to the stimuli currently overwhelming Lyna’s senses. It was when he penetrated her ear with his tongue, that Lyna was sent over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm.

She screamed his name as she came, arching her back and lifting her hips up off the bed. Alistair had touched naught but her ears, but couldn’t wait to taste the rest of her. As she worked at catching her breath, he released her ears and positioned himself between her legs. The scent of her arousal was heavy in the room and filled his senses with its heady aroma. 

Alistair chuckled lovingly as he gazed down at the beautiful woman, regaining her faculties below him. “I will _never_ tire of that, my love.” 

Unable yet to find words to respond, Lyna attempted to roll her hips towards him, wanting to be filled by him.

He pulled back further out of her reach. “Tsk tsk. You won’t land me that easily woman.” Alistair teased in response. “I have other plans for you first.” Alistair kissed her deeply, barely letting his body taste the top of her warmth before pulling away. 

Lyna whimpered and bit her bottom lip as Alistair’s tongue began to work its magic on other areas of her very sensitive body. He kissed his way down her neck then paid worship to each of her beautifully pert breasts before kissing his way down her flat abdomen. He couldn’t resist stopping and running his tongue around her navel before suggestively plunging his tongue into its tiny indentation. She moaned in anticipation of the wonders this man had to offer. Alistair definitely had a way with his mouth. He was intelligent and witty with a sharp sense of humor. His words had ways of making Lyna feel loved and cherished while his tongue could bring her to the brink of oblivion on any number of different locations on her body. 

Kissing his way down her hips and over both of her thighs, he savored the anticipation of what awaited him. The scent of her recent orgasm sent his head reeling. He loved the smell of his beloved, could never get enough of her tangy-sweet juices. Their first reunion last night had been quick and full of intense need, having sated that immediate desire. Alistair wanted nothing more than to savor these moments; make them last and draw them out for as long as he could. 

Her wetness was glistening on her lower lips. The closely trimmed hair framing her delicate pink opening which was begging for his attentions. Running his tongue along the outer edge of her labia where it met her inner thigh, he felt her shudder beneath him and groan in appreciation. Not about to leave the other side lonely, he repeated the action, eliciting a pained squeal of anticipation from his less than patient partner. Blowing a soft stream of air over her moist folds, she pressed herself closer to him and begged for him to stop teasing her. 

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Alistair ran his tongue lightly over the soft petals of her perfect flower. Moaning with his own pleasure at tasting her again after so long apart, he leaned in again to drink in the essence of the woman he loved so completely. 

His tongue never seemed to tire when he was bringing her pleasure this way. Feeling her move beneath him, hearing her moan and gasp as she rose closer and closer to her climax. Feeling how wet he made her always drove him crazy with desire. He loved it, relished it, couldn’t get enough. The feel of her satiny skin beneath his tongue, the hard nub of her clit as he licked and sucked on it. The feeling of her tight pussy as he inserted first one--then two fingers inside of her, constricting around his digits as if she were milking his cock to its own climax. 

His mouth never stopped working at her velvety soft petals, his tongue relentless in fanning her inner fires, his fingers plunged repeatedly inside of her as she writhed under his attentions.

Lyna’s hands--no longer above her head--were gripping Alistair’s hair, holding him where she wanted him, guiding him where she needed him as her hips rocked and she rode her way to her own release. Feeling the warmth pool in her pelvis she held him perfectly still as she felt the rush of her orgasm engulf her completely. 

Alistair stilled his mouth over Lyna’s swollen clit. Holding onto his lover’s rigid body as her climax washed over her. He worked his fingers slowly in and out of her as her inner walls clamped tightly down on them until her body began to relax. He then released her now overly sensitive button and proceeded to drink up her juices, savoring every last drop of her release with his own moans of pleasure.

Kissing his way back up her body, Alistair felt her twitch and jerk with each contact his lips made with her skin. As he gazed into her heavily lidded eyes, he kissed her once before declaring, “Now, my love, I think you may be ready for me.” 

Lyna reached up in response and pulled him down to claim his lips for her own, savoring her own essence on them. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she guided him inside her still constricting core with a welcome sigh. 

They were in no hurry this time. Wanting to savor and appreciate every thrust and thrill of them being one. Alistair withdrew slowly and teased her opening with the swollen head of his penis; barely penetrating then withdrawing without fully seating himself inside of her. She whimpered as he teased her and just when she was on the verge of begging for more, he sheathed himself fully and savored the sounds that he was eliciting from his beloved. 

Lyna grinned up at Alistair with eyes dancing with mischief, after one particularly forceful thrust. Looking down at her with a smirk of his own, he drew out a few long, full length thrusts and savored the way she felt surrounding his shaft. This was how they danced best; playful and free, wholeheartedly, without inhibitions. They teased and taunted, cherished and delighted, in each other's presence while always trying to get the better of the other. It was a finely choreographed performance with never a victor. Or perhaps always two champions. 

Pushing him off of her and rolling them both over, Lyna grabbed a strip of silk that she hadn’t noticed before on the nightstand. Her grin grew even more wicked as she tied his hands together behind his back then directed him to sit up against the head of the bed before climbing onto his lap and guiding him back inside her. He groaned deeply and let his head fall back as she worked him for a few long, sensual strokes. Not letting him get used to being treated so gently, she grabbed the top of the headboard and positioned her feet flat on the bed on either side of his hips. Lyna then proceeded to raise and lower herself onto his throbbing cock without touching him with any other part of her body. The penetration was deep and intense, but the lack of other contact was maddening. 

She started out slow, milking his shaft from base to tip in delicious--yet agonizingly slow--motions. Next, she’d slam herself down, faster and faster, feeling him hit that perfect spot inside of her before slowing down again. He groaned at feeling himself so deep inside of her, but couldn’t stand the total absence of her body pressed up against his. He tried to wriggle out of his bonds, but the silk was strong and Lyna was adept at keeping him where she wanted him.

He tried to lean his body forward toward hers, but she was strong and nimble and dodged his advances while maintaining her decadent dance on his lap. He finally settled on attacking her beautiful breasts with his mouth instead. She didn’t refuse him this time, allowing him the small bit of contact as she worked them both into a frenzy. He started out gentle but soon turned to nipping and biting at her tender flesh as she rode him harder. Each bite earned him a tremble and a moan causing her to rest longer against his body before rising up again off of him. 

The feeling of her tight folds constricting around him was exquisite and excruciating all at once. She worked him close to climax then changed her rhythm, making him have to make the climb again. Finally, being unable to take it anymore, Alistair managed to slip one of his wrists out of their binds. He grabbed her hips and with a growl in the back of his throat, pulled her down firmly, impaling her completely on his rod, her legs collapsing beneath her. Lyna giggled at his forcefulness but wouldn’t be deterred.

With her arms now firmly around his shoulders Lyna began to rock her hips on his rigid cock. Thrusting her tongue into his mouth, she kissed him deeply while pressing their bodies together. Arms wrapped tightly around each other now, they rocked to a new rhythm. The new position allowing for Lyna to grind her clit against his pelvis as she rode him frantically. Faster and faster they rocked, panting and grinding until they came undone together. 

They kissed and held each other until their breathing settled, then stayed pressed together for just a little while longer. Kissing and grinning happily and content with how their morning was going so far. 

Alistair finally broke the silence, “I’d say that it’s been a very good morning so far indeed. What exactly should we plan for an encore?”

Before Lyna could answer, Alistair’s stomach chose that moment to join in on the conversation. “Well it sounds to me like I need to feed you again before we do anything else.” She teased.

Alistair shrugged, “Warden appetite, what can I say? I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to get dressed and go downstairs to try to find something to eat, huh?”

Lyna pouted, “And here I was hoping to keep you naked in bed all day.”

“Ah as tempting as that is, I fear we’ve already eaten all of the food that Zevran provided for us.” Alistair turned to indicate the empty tray they left on the nightstand, only to find it gone.

Lyna looked at Alistair and they both looked over at the table and found a fresh tray already laid out for them. They both cautiously climbed out of bed and went over to investigate. Lyna checked the door first and found that it was still locked.

  
Upon approaching the tray, she found a note sticking out from underneath it. 

 

Lyna read the note first while Alistair freshened up at the wash basin.

 

~*~

> _My Dearests Friends,_
> 
>  
> 
> _I hope you do not mind my intrusion, but I took the silence coming from within your room to indicate a safe time to come and replenish your supplies. With all that exercise you_ _’ve been getting, you must keep up your strength, you know._
> 
>  
> 
> _I am truly happy that you two have reconciled. In truth, you both looked so happy and content laying there sleeping. Your happiness brings my heart joy. No two people belong together more than the both of you._
> 
> _Enjoy your morning... and afternoon. I hope I have provided you with enough sustenance that you shouldn_ _’t need to emerge from your little cocoon until this evening’s meal. I will await you both downstairs at sundown to catch up, as old friends do. I hope yo_ _u don_ _’t mind, but I’ve invited Isabela to join us. She has been an enjoyable distraction in your absence. Oh the stories we could tell. Ah but they are for another time perhaps._
> 
> _You may also note that I have returned Alistair_ _’s freshly laundered armor pad_ _ding. Sadly, I had to burn the clothes, but have provided you with a fresh set, as well as an extra treat there on your nightstand, so we_ _’re good, yes?_
> 
> _Eat! Drink! Make more--mad passionate love--and tonight, we will reconvene and swap stories!_
> 
> _Ciao,_
> 
> _Zevran_
> 
>  


	19. Deliveries and Discussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

**Deliveries and Discussions**

* * *

 

Lyna blushed as she handed the letter over to Alistair who just shoved a bit of bread into his mouth as he began to read. Lyna took her turn at washing up while Alistair choked on his bread while he finished reading the note. 

“Zevran… was in here? While we were?” He sputtered between coughs and just looked back at the bed then at his wrist, which still had the piece of silk attached to it.

Lyna grinned and just shook her head. “At least he waited until we were asleep before coming in. And I didn’t hear you complaining too terribly much when I had you restrained. I rather enjoyed that part myself.”

“But the door was locked!” Alistair exclaimed. 

Lyna chuckled, “That lock is a good lock, but not good enough to keep me out; so it’s safe to assume that it was no match for Zevran’s skills as well. And he did lock it again on his way out.” She reminded him.

She shrugged and wandered over to put some water on to boil for tea. “Besides, it’s of no matter now. He’s already been in and gone and he _did_ manage to procure more cheese for you as well as new clothes and clean padding. He’s also allowing us to not have to get dressed and go face the world just yet. Which, may I remind you, we were just lamenting before realizing he’d snuck in on us.”

Lyna pressed her bare breasts against his naked chest and kissed him tenderly, “You’re not regretting our current state of undress are you?”

Wrapping his arms firmly around Lyna, he relented, “No, of course not. It’s just… unsettling to know someone’s been in and out without us being aware.”

“I understand, my love. But honestly, when was the last time you slept behind a locked door?” Lyna half teased him then rested her head against his chest while chuckling.

“That’s different.” He countered and Lyna snorted in disbelief.

He continued, “I didn’t feel like I had anything to lose then.” He hugged her tightly and kissed the top of her head. “Now I have _everything_ to lose and I'm not willing to risk it.” He kissed her again and shook off a shudder.

Lyna looked up at him, “What is it, love?”

“My nightmare. I was so alone, it was awful. I can’t…” He shook his head and tried again. “There was so much darkness and death. It was all around. And there was no hope, a blanket of dread hovered over everything. The details have mostly slipped away, but what I remember is a feeling of utter despair and inevitable death. I was resigned to it. I was dying and I didn’t care because I was so incredibly alone. Then you were there. You called me back from the brink. Your light pulled me out of the darkness. Your love helped me remember who I was. Who I am. Who I want to be.” 

He kissed her then, full of tenderness and warmth. Releasing her lips, he continued, “Not unlike our reality.” He smiled at her, “Thank you, my love. Once again, you came to my aid. When I’m awake, when I’m asleep; you light my way and bring me continued hope for the future. Our future.”

Lyna smiled brightly up at the man she adored, “I like that. Hearing you say, ‘ _our future_.’ For the first time, I truly am willing to believe that we can have one. I always had hope, but with the blight and all the fighting. You never really could tell when our last night together would be. And now… I can picture our life together, five years from now… ten years--longer. Oh Alistair, I always want to be there for you when you need me as you have been for me. That will never change.”

He breathed her in and released the breath with a contented sigh, “I can live with that. But that brings us back to our sneaky thief, coming in while we were sleeping. We have so much lost time to make up for. I don’t want to think of our lack of vigilance taking any of that away from us.” 

Lyna looked up at her love with a mischievous grin, “So, if we’re being more vigilant, does this mean that you don’t want me to distract you anymore?” She rose up on her tiptoes and flicked her tongue over his ear. 

Alistair moaned and pulled away grinning. “ _Some_ distractions may be acceptable.” He picked her up off the ground and kissed her soundly before setting her back down on her own feet again. 

With his arms still firmly around her, Alistair glanced over at the tray of food and back at Lyna. “I fear, my lady, that I am having a dilemma. There is food and there is you. I don't think I want to let you go long enough to sit and eat at the table.”

He brushed his fingers tenderly down the side of her cheek, “To not be able to touch you after so long apart would be excruciating.” He nuzzled her hair with his nose and placed a lingering kiss a mere breath away from her ear. “I just can’t bring myself to stop.”

Lyna smiled demurely and hugged Alistair closer. “I know what you mean, my love. But perhaps, we can compromise and picnic on the bed like before?”

He claimed her lips again and lingered a loving look into her eyes. “There you go, coming up with solutions to save the day, once again. I think I can live with that.” Alistair said with a teasing smile.

They gathered their tea and tray of comestibles, placing them on the bedside table. They then made themselves comfortable on the coverlet of their bed.

“I really must thank Zevran properly for all that he’s done for us. Look at this feast: breads, meats, several different types of cheese, strawberries, and sweet cream! And you back in my arms. I would think that I’d died and joined the Maker if I didn’t believe this to be more enjoyable.” Alistair grabbed a strawberry dipped in the thick sweet cream and proceeded to offer it to Lyna.

She savored the delicate treat, then responded to Alistair’s first statement. “Be careful how you offer to thank Zevran, my heart, your definition of  _‘properly’_  will most likely have a very different meaning than Zevran’s. I don’t know that I’m willing to share you with him.” She said with a wink.

Alistair groaned, “duly noted.” Reaching for a bread crisp, he spread some Orlesian soft cheese on it and savored the tangy treat. “What happened to our other friends, if you don’t mind my asking? Zevran came with you, but what about Wynne, Leliana, and the others? Yes, I suppose I’m even asking about Morrigan. Did they all make it through the blight?”

Lyna finished her strawberry, then began to tell Alistair about their companion’s decisions after the celebrations ended. While she talked, he continued to partake of the delicacies Zevran provided. “Let’s see, Leliana was asked by the chantry to go back and protect the Urn of Sacred Ashes. You can imagine how thrilled she was at that prospect. The whole adventure through Haven, it was all she could talk about and then the look on her face when the Ashes healed Eamon. I fear she will be more madly devout than she was when we found her in Lothering.” Lyna shook her head and smiled the overly enthusiastic bard.

She paused here and there in her descriptions of their friends as he continued to feed her more of the delicious food on the tray next to them. “Oghren said something about heading up to visit Felsi at the Spoiled Princess. Come to think of it, Zevran and I traveled through there looking for you, but we didn’t see either one of them. Huh. I guess, I’m not sure where he is.” Lyna’s brow furrowed. She hadn’t thought to look for either of them when she stayed at the inn, her mind was very much elsewhere at the time.

“Shale and Wynne were planning on heading up to Tevinter together to try to find a way to make Shale mortal again, and Sten was heading back to Par Vollen since we reunited him with his sword.” Lyna sighed as if unwilling to continue her telling.

“What of that witch, Morrigan, did she finally get what was coming to her? Did Flemeth swoop in and haul her away kicking and screaming like the spoiled little witch that she is?” He chuckled as the image of that happening flashed through his mind.

Lyna shook her head and said with reluctance, “No actually, she uh… didn’t even fight against the Archdemon. She… left the night before.” Lyna hesitated then took a breath to prepare herself to continue.

Alistair could see that something was bothering Lyna. He took her hand and asked, “What is it love? What happened? Whatever it is that you don’t want to say, it won’t change anything!”

Lyna smiled weakly up at Alistair and squeezed his hand. “Remember when I said, the reason I pushed you away was because it was the  _only_  solution to saving both of our lives?” 

Alistair nodded in remembrance, but his brow furrowed wondering what she was so hesitant to say. 

Lyna took another deep breath and continued while looking down at their hands clasped firmly together. “We were in Redcliff the night before the battle with the Archdemon. I just came out of a meeting with Riordan and Loghain. This was the meeting that Riordan reaffirmed what Morrigan told me about making the final sacrifice for the blight to end. When I got back to my room, Morrigan was there and offered up an alternative to one of us Warden’s having to die.”

“An alternative? But, Loghain still died; I take it the option wasn’t a palatable one?”

“No, it wasn’t palatable at all. Even if it had been, Loghain still needed to die for what he did; I wouldn’t have accepted it anyway. There wasn’t an option anywhere that would make me try to save him. I wasn’t happy at the prospect; I would have been even less happy to accept it if you’d been there with me. Though, I fear you might think differently after all you suffered when I sent you away.” She paused a moment to sip her tea before continuing. “Her solution, if we agreed to it, would have had Loghain survive the battle and her off carrying his child with the essence of the Archdemon inside of it.” She paused to let that sink in.

Alistair shuddered when the realization finally hit, “You mean--”

Lyna nodded and ventured a glance at his expression.

“To survive the blight, I would have needed to sleep with her? To give her a child?” His face visibly blanched. “A demon child?”

Lyna watched Alistair closely as he processed what she told him. She was worried that he would be mad at her again; knowing that there was another possibility other than pushing him away. 

“Maker’s breath, Lyna! I should thank you for sending me away! I can’t imagine… touching… ugh!” Alistair shuddered again and refused to finish the sentence. He pulled her close into a tight hug as if he’d just had a terrible nightmare and needed the reassurance of her touch that it was over. 

“So, you’re not mad at me?” Lyna hedged.

“Mad at you? No! Why would I be mad at you?”

Lyna rested her head against his shoulder, “I sent you away; quite cruelly I might add. I thought it was the only way to save you. Then to find out that there was another solution all along.” 

“Lyna, my love, that is no other solution. I would prefer to have perished by the Archdemon than to have to succumb to that witch’s wiles. To produce Maker knows what kind of child.” He physically shuddered at the thought. “No sweetheart, I am not mad at you at all. Whatever happened, it’s in the past. I only want to think about the here and now. I only want to think about our future and all the pleasures we’ll find within it.” He tilted her chin towards his mouth and kissed her ardently. 

 


	20. Strawberries and Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

**Strawberries and Cream**

* * *

 

 

Their food forgotten, Alistair leaned into his embrace with Lyna, laying her back onto the bed. He broke their kiss and said with feeling, “I can only imagine ever being with you. I only _want_ to be with you. My Lyna. My life.” To prove his point, he claimed her lips again, laying his body on top of hers. His erection growing steadily as their tongues intertwined. Alistair ran his fingers through her hair and cupped her face, looking down at the beautiful woman beneath him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, but prevented him from parting her legs to seek her entrance. He pulled back and looked at her quizzically only to find that glint back in her eye again. 

“You won’t land me that easily.” Lyna tossed Alistair’s words from earlier back at him. “I have other plans for you.” She kissed him once more deeply, before pulling herself out from underneath his warmth, rolling them both over. 

Dipping her finger into the thick sweet cream, Lyna offered it up for Alistair to lick from her digit. He did so willingly and relished the feel of her finger in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and finally kissing the tip to release it. He gazed up at her expectantly as she dipped her finger back into the bowl. As he opened his mouth to receive her finger again, he watched as--this time--she licked the sweet treat herself and with the thick cream still on her tongue, leaned down to share it with him. They both moaned as their tongues savored the dessert that only enhanced their already impassioned kisses. 

As Lyna pulled back, she saw Alistair’s fingers leave the bowl and watched with intrigue as he brought them close to her lips, only to have them drop at the last moment to coat her nipple. Taking the bait, she leaned forward so that Alistair could remove what he painted her with. 

She groaned with pleasure as his hot mouth enveloped her breast, his tongue lapping up the cool cream upon it. His coated fingers finding their way into her waiting mouth after all, so she could clean them of their stickiness. Taking one and then the other into her mouth, she worked her tongue in slow circles around his digits. She finished by taking both together all the way in her mouth before releasing them slowly, nipping playfully at his fingertips. Alistair growled low in his throat at the promises that her mouth held. 

Leaning forward over her beloved, Lyna plunged her tongue into Alistair’s waiting mouth. His hands wrapped firmly around her, as she pressed her body tightly against his, trapping his cock between them. She rocked her body against his, sliding her taut abs up his rigid shaft and then down again. 

Her lips left his and traveled across his jaw towards his ear. Nipping at his sensitive lobe, she felt Alistair jerk beneath her, pressing his dick closer to her still. He began to thrust against her body, not caring that he wasn’t inside her. He sought the friction and the heat that her body provided as she teased his ear relentlessly. 

Releasing his ear before he could find his release, she pulled back to let the air play between them. Alistair whimpered at her absence only to feel that familiar creaminess applied to his own nipple. His eyes still closed, he didn’t see Lyna’s grin at his receptiveness to her play. She allowed her body to touch his again, ever so lightly before she pulled back and lapped the treat from his nipple. 

She began to kiss her way lower when Alistair found his voice again and pouted, “Hey no fair! Equal! You can’t tease one without the other, it might get jealous!” She giggled and obliged his sense of balance by licking cream from his other nipple as well.

“I only licked one of your ears though my love, shall I move back up to give the other side its fair share too? Or perhaps you’d like me to proceed lower? There is so much more of you that I still desire to taste.” Lyna took his shaft in her hand and gave it a firm squeeze to illustrate her point. 

His moan was her only answer. Lyna proceeded to kiss his abdomen again to hide the fact that she was once again dipping her fingers into the delicious bowl of fun that Zevran provided for them. As she pulled back, she pumped his cock once fully from tip to base and back again, watching as the precum coated its swollen head. She combined the cream with his own personal essence and covered the entire tip with the mixture.

Alistair opened his eyes and gazed down the length of his body as Lyna held his eyes while personally cleaning the white cream seductively from her own fingertips. He let his head fall back with a prayer of, “Sweet Maker” as she got comfortable over the top of him and began to very slowly lick the cream from the head of his cock. She ran her tongue along the extra sensitive underside before circling it completely, leaving the very tip for last. Savoring the sweet mixed with his own salty tanginess, Lyna moaned as she wrapped her lips completely around the end of his cock. His hips jerked under her but she held him down as she worked her own brand of magic on him. 

Releasing him briefly, she gently caressed his balls with her hand, then took one and then the other into her hot, hungry mouth. Gently suckling each then letting her tongue run over the smooth ridge between them and right up the full underside of his shaft. He gasped as her mouth engulfed the head of his cock again and moaned as she began her slow descent down. Her tongue dancing furtively as her mouth took him in, inch by delicious inch. 

As her lips met with the course curls at the base of his length, he felt them tighten around his girth. His head was already swimming, but Lyna wasn’t finished with him yet. She proceeded to hallow out her cheeks providing the sweetest suction on Thedas as she slowly worked her way up again. The whole time she was caressing his testicles with one hand and the other was tucked underneath him squeezing his ass to press his hips further upwards. 

Lyna hummed as she worked at his throbbing cock, adding the vibration to the already overwhelmingly delicious treat that was her mouth. As  
Alistair began to feel that familiar stirring of warmth within him, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Lyna could read his body’s language almost as good as he could and slowly withdrew her mouth from him with one last kiss, before replacing her mouth with her hand for a last gentle squeeze as she climbed up on top of Alistair to claim his lips for herself again.

Pulling away from her swollen lips, Alistair tried to catch his breath and calm his body’s reaction to this amazing woman. She knew that he would need a minute to fully take back control from her attentions before they proceeded. She was patient, content, and adored knowing that the effect Alistair had on her was definitely mutual. 

Confident that he would be able to last at least a little bit longer, Alistair rolled Lyna over so that she was once again beneath him. She wrapped both of her petite legs around his hips as he took one of her nipples into his mouth and then the other before sliding himself slowly inside of her hot, wet core.

She closed her eyes and crooned his name at feeling him inside of her. As much as she loved her playful relationship with Alistair, as much as she enjoyed the amazing things his mouth could do to her and she enjoyed retaliating in kind; that was nothing in comparison to how they felt joined together as one. It was beautiful when they found their perfect rhythm. The feeling of their bodies moving together, thrusting in perfect harmony. Hands caressing, lips seeking and finding their place. Their home. The union was always a glorious refrain. Their hearts beating as one. Thrusts sharper as they crescendoed towards their apex. The joy of their convergence washing over them. Every-time: their lovemaking was a beautiful symphony of which Lyna could never get enough.

Panting breathlessly, Alistair rested his forehead on Lyna’s. Completely spent. Fully at peace. He opened his eyes and gazed into hers. Honey brown meeting sea-foam green, love and adoration reflected in each. His lips brushed hers; once, twice. It would never be enough. He never wanted it to be. This was where they both belonged. Together. Home. A third kiss caught a tear silently gliding down her cheek. Worry turned to relief as he saw the smile on Lyna’s lips when she looked up at him. 

“I love you Alistair.” She whispered against his lips.

He knew exactly how she felt.

“I will always love you, Lyna.”

 


	21. The Hanged Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

**The Hanged Man**

* * *

Coming down the stairs into the crowded main floor of the Hanged Man; Lyna could hardly believe that it’d only been twenty-four hours since she helped carry Alistair up those same stairs the night before. Hand in hand, she and Alistair headed toward the table in front of the fire where Zevran sat with Isabella. Both of them stood at their approach, grinning widely with knowing smirks upon their faces. 

Zevran reached out his hand to greet Alistair who reached out in kind and grasped hold of his forearm. Zevran began, “It is good to see you again my friend!”

Releasing his arm, Alistair surprised Zevran by pulling him into a very big bear-hug. Unabashedly wrapping both arms fully around Zevran, Alistair whispered a heartfelt, “Thank you!” into his ear so only those closest to them could hear. 

Zevran’s eyes were wild as he looked at Lyna before tentatively returning the Alistair’s embrace. “You, my friend, are most welcome. Though I’m not sure what it is exactly that you are thanking me for.”

Alistair released Zevran and grinned. Grabbing onto Lyna’s hand, he winked, “Well it wasn’t for sneaking in while we were sleeping, that’s for sure. Though I do appreciate the fresh clothes; the silk ties, strawberries, and cream were a very delicious touch too.”

Zevran chuckled knowingly and clapped Alistair on the back. “I’m happy that you are finally taking my advice with matters in the bedroom, my friend. Should you ever want that instruction on Antivan massage, you only have but to ask.” He winked at Alistair then went to embrace Lyna. 

“You are looking more like yourself, my dear. It brings my heart joy to see you smiling again. And that blushing you’re doing is adorable too!”

Alistair excused himself to go talk to the barkeep, as the rest of them sat down at the table. Lyna watched cautiously as he appeared to be ordering drinks and raised an eyebrow as Corff slid a small bundle to him across the bar before going to get their drinks. She saw Alistair pocket part of the package while he fingered the second piece. As Corff returned with what appeared to be a glass of water and a glass of wine, Alistair slid the second item over his neck and tucked it against his chest before returning to the table with their drinks. 

Isabela started to comment on Alistair’s choice in beverage when he stopped her, “Don’t. Just… no. I’ve had my fair share for a while, I think I’ll stick to the simpler things for now. I’d actually like to remember,” he paused and looked lovingly over at Lyna, “and to enjoy my life right now. There’s no reason I can think of to try to cloud things anymore.” He leaned over and very gently kissed Lyna on the lips before handing her the glass of honeyed mead. 

Lyna smiled up at Alistair and took a sip before glancing at the spot where he tucked the second item. “I can’t get anything past you, can I?” He joked reaching inside his shirt and pulled out a silver chain with an amulet dangling at the end. 

“Your mother’s amulet?” Lyna gasped in recognition.

Alistair looked around the table at his companions before admitting, “When I got here, I knew I was in no shape to keep certain things safe. So I asked Corff over there to hold this for me, so I wouldn’t do anything stupid, like try to sell it to pay for something else to drink. He had very specific instructions not to release them back to me until I was of a sound mind again.”

Lyna smiled and reached for the necklace, she ran her fingers over the carving on its face before tucking it back into Alistair’s shirt for him. “And the other item?”

He coughed briefly before admitting, “That… that is something for another time.” He looked deeply into her eyes, “Soon, I promise.” He winked at her before turning back to their friends. 

“So, you already know what _we’ve_ been up to.” He blushed lightly, “What kinds of mischief have the two of you been up to while we were… uh, indisposed.” 

Lyna took a drink of her wine to hide her own blush but was saved as the serving girl Norah brought their food over: steaming stew with meat and potatoes with a loaf of freshly baked bread and butter. Lyna breathed in appreciatively then commented, “This is quite the Ferelden fare for Kirkwall isn’t it?” 

Norah responded with a nod, “Since the blight brought so many refugees, messere, we’ve included some more familiar dishes to appease your palettes.” She began to walk away, then hesitating, turned and faced Alistair. “If I may say so, sir, since you seem to be wholly sober.” She blushed lightly and bowed her head, “I just wanted to say, thank you.” 

Alistair looked a taken aback and perhaps a little worried at what must have happened for her to be thanking him. “Thank you miss?”

“You may not remember, but a while back, there was a group in here that got pretty handsy with me. I’m used to a certain amount of grabbing, but this group was a bit too much for me.” She looked around quickly before whispering conspiratorially, “They had one of them Qunari with them, you see.” Continuing in her regular tone, she continued, “You… you _defended_ me to them and when they wouldn’t back down, you… well, you sort of made them leave, messere. _All_ of them. I wanted to thank you, now that you may hopefully remember.” She bowed her head quickly towards him before turning and leaving, not waiting for his response.” 

Lyna and Zevran shared a look, then glanced back at Alistair who still seemed fairly flummoxed before they both burst out laughing. Alistair looked from one to the other of them before glancing at Isabela for aid.

“Don’t look at me? I have no idea what she was on about.” Isabela said with a grin. “Though, now I can’t wait to hear the story.”

Lyna shared what happened with them at the Spoiled Princess back in Ferelden. The parts that she left out, Zevran was happy to fill in. Specifically, the part about her unbuttoning her blouse and sauntering over to get the mercenary group’s attention. He even went so far as to stand up and pantomime the ‘saunter’, which Isabela found quite amusing. As he continued with his rather more dramatic telling of the event, he elaborated on the bit where tiny Lyna threatened their over-large leader with a dagger to his throat, making it seem quite the more interesting tale than how she remembered it. 

Lyna was mostly only concerned with the information that it was there that they acquired the lead that directed them toward Kirkwall. Towards Alistair. She was thankful for the skirmish that sent the mercenary group packing. She might even be more thankful than Norah, whom he’d been protecting in the first place.

As they laughed, talked, and finished their meal, the door to the Hanged man opened and a familiar Templar strode in. The tall, armored man scanned the room twice before his gaze landed on Lyna’s table. His eyes widened in surprise before taking long strides over toward them.

“By the Maker’s good graces, Warden Mahariel! To what does Kirkwall owe the honor of welcoming in the Hero of Ferelden?” he asked with a humble grin. Some of the tables around them suddenly grew very quiet.

Lyna said, “Cullen!” at the same time that Isabela greeted him by title, “Knight-Captain.”

Lyna glanced at Isabela then back at Cullen, “Knight-Captain, is it now? Congratulations on the promotion.” She returned his smile. Lowering her voice, she said, “I was kind of traveling incognito. Searching for someone dear to me, as it were.” She indicated Alistair at her side who nodded towards Cullen.

“Knight-Captain, I hope I haven’t been too much trouble around here lately. I haven’t really been myself, you know. Thankfully, I’m feeling much more complete now.” Alistair rested his hand on top of Lyna’s on the table and they both visibly relaxed at the contact. 

Cullen responded kindly, “You provided us and the guard with a fair amount of entertainment, but no, you weren’t any trouble and were actually more helpful than you may realize. We don’t get down to Darktown often enough and you managed to keep it fairly clear from some of the more nefarious dealings. I’m glad to see that you are back to rights again.”

Alistair looked relieved and nodded his acknowledgement, but still didn’t release Lyna’s hand. 

Lyna leaned closer to Cullen and whispered for his hears only, “How are you? You are looking so much better than the last time we met.”

A darkness fell over Cullen’s eyes, but he answered honestly, “I am well enough, considering.” He paused to think about how to continue, “I owe you my thanks… If you hadn’t come along when you did. I don’t know…” He stopped himself again and looked around, “I also owe you an apology, Warden. When we met last, I was not myself. I said some things that were unworthy of me. You were there to help, you saved so many people, including myself. I will be forever in your debt. My humble thanks to all three of you.” Cullen finished with a salute and bowed his head toward Lyna and her friends.

Lyna smiled at Cullen in reassurance, “I am happy that you are well, Cullen. I worried for you, but see now that you are on your way to doing good things. Kirkwall is only a stopping point for you, my friend. Don’t let its darkness overshadow the light that you hold within. There are many people who will look to you for guidance in the years to come. You will be their pillar of strength and for some, their ray of hope: proof that the insurmountable can be overcome. When _that_ time comes, do not worry. It may be scarier than facing down a tower full of abominations, but its rewards are immense. Keep looking towards that light inside, it will give you the strength you need and you shall endure. The dawn _will_ come.”

Cullen stared at Lyna in disbelief. This tiny elf who saved all of Ferelden from the blight and himself from the tower’s darkest hour, was encouraging  _him_. She sounded like she knew what his future held. He already didn’t feel worthy. His days were dark and his nights and nightmares were even darker. His life was filled with nothing but duty and uncertainty and yet, this lithe little hero was telling him that it would all be all right. The dawn  _will_  come, like the old chantry hymn reassured them. And for the first time since before Kinloch Hold fell, he actually believed it. 

Cullen took a knee before her and bowed his head in deep reverence and respect. “Thank you, Warden. Your words mean more to me than I can express. I will take them to heart and let them guide me in the uncertainty ahead.” He stood up again and glanced once more around the room as if looking for someone. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I am searching for a few of my newer recruits that have gone missing. It is very unlike them. Safe journeys my friends. May the Maker watch over you all.” With that, he saluted again, turned on his heel and walked out of the tavern.

Alistair chuckled to ease some of the tension at the table. “And that my friends, is why _she’s_ in charge and I follow willingly in her shadow.”

Zevran raised his glass in concurrence, “Salute!”

Lyna blushed but raised her glass with her three companions, grinning at having people she cared about surrounding her again.

 


	22. ~Merrill~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

**~Merrill~**

* * *

“Now, if I remember correctly, you were about to tell us what the two of you were up to while we were… busy elsewhere. What news is there?” Lyna looked expectantly at her friends.

Isabela smiled at Zevran who grinned luridly back at her. Lyna stopped them before they could begin, “I don’t need _those_ details. What’s the news here in town?”

Isabella looked a bit crestfallen, but Zevran just laughed at Lyna’s squeamishness. They then began talking in turns about the news around Kirkwall. They discussed someone named Hawke who seemed to be a good addition to the city. She and her sister were Ferelden blight refugees from Lothering. They had been helping a lot of people out and seemed to be keeping level heads while doing it. Isabela occasionally lent a hand on some of the more interesting adventures they shared, which gave her an inside perspective on the good they were doing. 

They also gave quick run downs of some other things going on. They spoke about a group of Qunari who were currently marooned in town who didn’t seem in a big hurry to leave. There were some slavers in town who were looking for someone who escaped from Tevinter. And they just began to discuss the Crows presence in Kirkwall and how Zevran might need to lay low for a bit when Merrill came in and inserted herself in their conversation. 

“You bear the same features as my clan, you could always blend in there should you need a place of refuge.”

Zevran shook his head in response. He didn't know Merrill and only kept his tone civil because he saw Lyna hug her the night before, “Thank you, friend of my friend. That is kind of you to offer, but I must decline. It would be too dangerous and I wouldn't wish to burden your clan with the repercussions of mine own actions.” 

She shrugged at his response as if it were no matter, then turned to Lyna, “I was hoping to get to see you again! I see you found Alistair! Hello Alistair, it’s nice to see you… uh, focused and upright. Hi, Isabela and who are you exactly?” She turned back toward Zevran. “I’m Merrill, by the way. You are a friend of Lyna’s?”

Zevran smiled his most alluring smile, took Merrill’s hand and kissed the back of it before replying with a bow, “My name is Zevran Arainai. Former Antivan Crow, assassin of some repute, internationally renowned lover, and yes, I like to think, friend to Lyna Mahariel.” He kissed her hand again for good measure before releasing it, leaving Merrill very flustered and strangely quiet.

Lyna glared lightly at Zevran, “Leave her alone!” Then turned to address Merrill, “I’m glad you’re here, I was hoping to ask about our clan and Keeper Marethari. Are they nearby?”

Shaking off the effects of Zevran’s dulcet voice, Merrill answered, “They’re at the base of Sundermount. They’ve been there for a while now, I don’t know if they’ll be moving along anytime soon though. I don’t live with them anymore, you see.” Merrill paused and looked uncertain of how to proceed.

“What happened Merrill? You were the Keeper’s First! How could you not be with the clan anymore?”

Merrill gave Lyna a small smile. “You know, after you left, we kept searching for Tamlen. I didn’t want to believe that he just vanished. I began to think about that mirror the two of you found and that somehow, it would hold the answers to finding him. So I started investigating and collecting its pieces. The Keeper and I disagreed on many aspects of this. She humored me up unto a point, but as I came near to finishing its restoration, she ultimately disagreed with me getting it working. She feared that I would bring the blight down on us all as it infected you and took Tamlen away from us. So, when Hawke came to us with the Asha’bellanar amulet, the Keeper asked her to take me with her when she left. It is her job to protect our people, should I succeed in my personal mission to fix the Eluvian.” Merrill sighed sadly, but looked resigned to her fate.

“There are so many questions, so much I’d like to hear about. But first, why did Hawke have Flemeth’s amulet?” Lyna looked at Alistair then Zevran with worry before landing her gaze back on Merrill. 

“She traveled in it. Well a piece of her did, I suppose. Hawke said that Asha’bellanar helped them escape the blight and in return she was to carry the amulet to us so I could perform the ritual to release her.”

“She’s here?!” Alistair looked around as if Flemeth would burst through the door at any moment. 

“Well not _here_ , per se, but she flew off from Sundermount the last I saw her.” 

Lyna was somewhat placated, so proceeded to broach another tender subject that Merrill touched on. “Merrill, you know that Tamlen won't be coming back right?”

“We never found him Lyna, he could still be out there. Sick like you were! If only we could look harder, or differently, we may still be able to bring him back.” Merrill almost pleaded with Lyna.

“No Merrill, he isn’t.” Lyna sighed heavily before continuing. “I did find him again, eventually. Or rather, he found me. He was too far gone with the taint. There was nothing else I could do. He’s… he’s gone Merrill. He’s not suffering anymore.”

Alistair reached his arm around Lyna’s shoulders and pulled her in closer to his body. He knew how much it hurt Lyna to talk about Tamlen. They were close once. Shared the innocence of young love that might have become more, if things happened differently. 

He remembered the night that the darkspawn ambushed their camp. Lyna broke away from the main battle to engage a lone figure outside the light of their fire. At first, it didn’t seem as if Lyna was fighting with him at all, they appeared to be talking. But darkspawn didn’t  _talk_ , did they? The creature eventually attempted to attack her, which only left him dead at her feet. Alistair found her sobbing over the blighted body, unrecognizable as anything but darkspawn, but Lyna knew that it was Tamlen. 

Darkspawn or no, she’d insisted that they give him a proper Dalish burial before they abandoned their camp. Alistair himself was tasked with finding a cedar branch while Lyna fastened an oaken staff to bury him with. She informed them that the staff was to help Tamlen along his path in the afterlife and the cedar branch was included to scatter the ravens of Fear and Deceit; they who were once the servants of Dirthamen, the elven god of secrets and knowledge.

Alistair didn’t really understand the burial rights of his beloved. He only knew that she was hurting and that this was important to her. It was her tradition. He heard Lyna recanting all of this to Merrill as they both toasted to their lost clan mate. 

A hush blanketed the group as they contemplated lost friends. Breaking the silence and changing the subject, Lyna asked, “So you live here in town now?”

Merrill smiled softly, “Oh yes, I live in the alienage. It’s quite lovely, or as lovely as it can be, I suppose. But the vhenadahl is quite beautiful and I don't spend all of my time there. I do tend to travel with Hawke whenever she needs me. Speaking of, I am supposed to meet up with Hawke, Fenris, and Varric here shortly.”

As if on cue, the animated dwarf from the night before descended the stairs and headed straight for their table. “Greetings folks!” He said to everyone in general then looked from Merrill to Isabela to Zevran and greeted them personally, at least, that’s what Lyna guessed was happening, he didn’t actually use their names after all. “Daisy, Riviani, uh Pointy? - That one may stick, if not, you’ll get your nickname later, don’t you worry.” 

Finally, he looked toward Lyna and Alistair and nodded once in greeting then bowed with a flourish before them, “Wardens. My name is Varric: last in line to lead house Tethras, Merchant Prince of Kirkwall, devilishly handsome rogue, and purveyor of grand stories of epic adventure!” 

Rising to his full-dwarvish height again, he patted his unusual crossbow affectionately, “and this here is my Bianca. She’s a beauty. Isn’t that right, sweetheart!” He said while stroking his crossbow lovingly. “I'd love to stay and chat, I bet you all have some incredible stories to tell. Those are the best kind you know! But alas, there isn't time to memorize all of your sordid details.” He seemed to sigh wistfully as if he'd rather do nothing more than stay and recant tales of Grey Warden lore plus add more stories to his arsenal while listening to them tell of their own adventures.

He looked at Merrill, “Are you ready to go Daisy? I bet Hawke has an agenda of death and destruction for us to wade through tonight. Y’know, just like almost every night.”

She nodded and rose to join him. As almost an afterthought she turned back and hugged Lyna tightly, “It was wonderful to catch up a little. I'm happy to see you alive and well, the last time I saw you, you were still so pale and sick. If you happen to go talk to the Keeper, will you tell her what you told me about Tamlen? I think… I think it will ease her mind to hear that. And to see you again of course.” With that she shouldered her staff and headed for the front door. 

Varric looked over at Isabela, “Not joining us tonight, Riviani?”

She shook her head no before answering with a smirk, “Tonight belongs to you and Bianca Varric, I could never compete with her wiles.” She winked at him then smiled at Lyna as he nodded and excused himself to join Merrill. 

 

 


	23. New Orders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

**New Orders**

* * *

 

The conversation at their table ended up back at Isabela who told them all about her most recent sea voyage and why she was currently a captain without a ship. Something about smuggling goods that she later found out were people and there was a storm, or perhaps a Qunari dreadnaught, or maybe it was both that ultimately destroyed her vessel and freed said cargo in the process. Isabela, being Isabela, seemed to be leaving out some select pieces to her story, but as this didn't really have any personal effect on the group, Lyna let it pass.

Their conversation was comfortable and warm. Four old friends catching up on old times. It eventually came back around to what they were going to do next. They all agreed that staying in Kirkwall was probably not the best option with the Crows still looking for Zevran, and mages being at odds with the Templars.  _When were they not?_  Add to that, the Qunari in town and it just didn't amount up to a relaxing vacation. Now that Lyna and Alistair were reunited, they didn't really want to jump right into their old life of fighting and being in the thick of all that turmoil again. Even though they had no idea what would happen next, they agreed, that Kirkwall wasn’t the place to find their future.

Zevran turned to Isabela, “What about you? You are, of course, welcome to travel with us!”

“Sadly no, poppet, I have a few loose ends I need to tie up here in Kirkwall. You go on and have fun without me. I’ll stay here and deter any ‘interested’ parties that may inquire about you.” She affectionately patted Zevran’s leg and took another drink of her ale.

“Well that leaves just us three, if you’ll allow for my continued intrusion that is.”

Lyna began to answer but was cut off by Alistair, “I owe you more than I can could ever repay. I would be honored to have you travel with us once more.” As an afterthought, he glanced at Lyna to make sure she approved.

Lyna grinned and raised her glass, “To less adventurous adventures!” They toasted and drank, then began making tentative plans for the future. 

A few minutes into their planning, Lyna and Alistair both sensed tainted individuals nearby. Leaving their conversation hanging, they simultaneously tensed and turned toward the entrance to the tavern a fraction of a second before the door opened. 

In walked a small patrol headed straight for their table. It was a diverse group, though they all were wearing familiar, coordinating, blue and white uniforms. Lyna didn’t need to see the sigil that they all bore to know that each of them carried the same taint as she did. Wardens. She looked at Alistair then back at the group as they approached single file. Realizing a bit too late that this probably wasn’t going to be good, they steadied themselves for what was to come.

The first to salute was a dark haired elf in robes. His skin was bronze and his face was unmarked by a vallaslin. The second to approach and salute as they fanned out around the table, was a rather large, fair skinned warrior that had an impressive two handed sword strapped to his back. Third to approach was a dark haired man with light grey eyes carrying a bow. As the archer stepped aside, Lyna recognized the smug face of Oghren.

“Well smack my ass and call me Sally! It’s about time we found you!” the dwarf declared loudly. “You led us on quite the goose chase, you know!”

Lyna recovered quickly from her shock at seeing her friend again, “Oghren! What are you doing here?” She narrowed her eyes at him as she looked his uniform up and down, “And why are you wearing…” She trailed off as she noticed that she could sense the Warden’s taint in him as well.

“Oghren? You’re a Warden!? Who lost the bet to make that happen?”

“Oh ha, ha! I went searching for you in Amaranthine after things with Felsi and I didn’t work out. Didn’t find you, but I decided to stay anyway and make my darkspawn slaying a permanent gig! What do you think? I look pretty hot in blue and white, don’t I?!” Oghren laughed loudly but was cut off from further conversation by the bow carrying Warden. 

“Warden-Commander, my name is Nathaniel and we come with an urgent missive for you from the First Warden”. 

Alistair looked at Lyna, “Warden-Commander, is it now? Aren’t you moving up in the world?” He nudged her shoulder playfully.

Rolling her eyes, she accepted the rolled parchment from the Warden. “Thank you, Nathaniel, please call me Lyna. I don’t believe the promotion was ever made official anyway.” She said the last with a sideways look toward Alistair. 

As she unrolled the letter and began to scan over its contents Nathaniel summarized them for her, “It has, actually. The Commander that was sent to Amaranthine to rebuild the order, made quite the mess of things. You are being summoned back into duty as the new Arlessa of Amaranthine and the Warden-Commander of Ferelden. We are to escort you back to make sure that you arrive safely.”

Oghren chimed in, “To make sure you actually show up, is more like it. Can’t have you flitting off to make puppies with your man here. Hey Al, good to see you again! Gotta get you two back into the swing of things. Put you back to work. Apparently the world can’t handle itself without you there to hold it all together.” 

Lyna re-rolled the summons and tucked it into her pouch; there were a lot more details inside than what she could currently focus on. Slipping easily back into her leadership role, she addressed the newly arrived Wardens. “You four must be pretty tired from your travels. Why don’t you get something to eat and rest for the night? I will confer with my friends and we can reconvene in the morning. I will give you my answer then.”

Oghren began to protest when Lyna added, “I _will_ be here in the morning, Oghren. You have my word. I will see you then.” With that she took Alistair’s hand and rose from the table offering it to the new arrivals so they could rest and eat. 

Isabela also rose from the table and bid everyone good luck and a fond farewell. She hugged Lyna briefly and whispered, “You two are good for each other. I’m glad to see you both smiling again.”

Lyna returned her hug with fondness, “Good luck to you, my friend. May your next ship be as majestic as the seas and as flamboyant as the hat that I know you will acquire to go with it!” 

Isabela replied, “What can I say? I like big boats, I cannot lie.” She finished with a large grin.

Turning to Zevran she said, “Thanks for last night’s little adventure. Just like old times eh? Next time you’re in town, look me up.” She lifted his chin with her index finger and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Pulling away with a smirk, she turned and sauntered out of the tavern. 

Lyna, Alistair, and Zevran bid the Wardens goodnight; then retired to Zevran’s room to fully read the missive and make their decisions over the adventures to come.


	24. Planning for the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

**Planning for the Future**

* * *

**Kirkwall - 9:32 Dragon**

It didn’t take much negotiation to decide where they were headed off to next. After reading the missive from the First Warden and seeing what a mess the Orlesian Warden-Commander made of things in Amaranthine, all Lyna needed to know was that Alistair would go with her and her decision was made. There was only one small problem to their next adventure; Alistair was exiled from Ferelden and they needed the Queen’s permission for him to return.

 

“I could always go pay the Queen a little visit and she would trouble you no more!” Zevran offered helpfully.

 

Alistair chuckled but shook his head, “That would only cause more trouble. Who do you think would have to rule the country then? That seems like more trouble than I’m willing to play with. No, there has to be another way.”

 

Lyna offered up the only reasonable solution she could think of. “Well, Anora did offer me a boon that I have yet to take advantage of. I think I will write our dear Queen a little letter informing her of the situation. She can accept that you will be joining me or all of Thedas will know she has refused to make due on her promise. With all that her father did to tear apart Ferelden and all that _we_ did to put it back together again, she cannot afford to publicly refuse me.”

 

“And what exactly will we be informing her of, my dear?” Alistair asked reluctantly.

 

“That we have been summoned by the First Warden to clean up the mess that was made in Amaranthine. To rebuild the city and work to rebuild the order at Vigil’s Keep. I have been made Warden-Commander of all Ferelden, with you as my Constable and Zevran our trusted Talon of the Ferelden Grey.”

 

Zevran raised an eyebrow in appreciation of that hefty promotion. “Ooh, you make me sound so suave and official… yet scary.” Zevran chuckled wiggling his eyebrows.

 

“You already see yourself as suave and damn be to anyone who says otherwise!” Lyna laughed.

 

Zevran made a face, “Hopefully announcing my presence thusly won’t bring the Crows down on the Wardens.”

 

“Ah, my friend, but what better way to protect your new status, than by surrounding you with a battalion of trained, tainted warriors?” Lyna winked at him conspiratorially.

 

“So, we just tell her we’re coming? That’s it? And you think she’ll just accept it as fact and not bat her eyes otherwise?” Alistair was still skeptical.

 

Zevran watched as Lyna’s eyes began to twinkle. He chuckled, “Ah, my dear, that look you have in your eyes. I sense something else delicious working behind the scenes. What is the _not so visible_ side of that plan you have hatching in that deviant little head of yours?”

 

Lyna grinned sheepishly while positioning herself on Alistair’s knee. He wrapped his arms around her and looked into her eyes expectantly. “Oh this can’t be good.” He said with humor.

 

“Well, I have to respond to the First Warden’s letter too, you see. I will simply state the predicament we are in; that I have just recovered our lost Warden who happens to currently be an exiled refugee from the land I have just been summoned to. I will explain, quite succinctly, that I find it imperative to personally oversee your reinstatement into the order as you were instrumental in the proceedings leading up to defeating the blight in the first place. In fact, I may insist that your presence is so crucial to my being able to succeed in Amaranthine, that should I not be allowed to bring you with me, they would need to find themselves another Warden to clean up their mess for them. He will have to back up the validity of your promotion and presence at Vigil’s Keep to save face. This will also solidify our orders to be there for the Queen.” She looked at Alistair pointedly. “His decision to put an Orlesian in charge of the Wardens in Ferelden, _on Ferelden soil,_ was a mistake. He knows this, which is why he’s summoned me to clean up the mess.”

 

Zevran chuckled and Alistair just rested his head on her shoulder. “You play a dangerous game, my love.” He said in resignation.

 

“Nonsense!” Zevran exclaimed, getting excited at all the intrigue, “She is a master of the game, though she loathes to admit it. She has them both by the short hairs as they each need something from her. Our dear naive Queen has publicly offered Lyna anything as a reward for her efforts in saving them all. With how new and tenuous her full reign still is, without the Theirin bloodline to support her claim to it, she needs the people’s favor right now. Should she refuse the requested boon, the people would see her promises as worthless and her as untrustworthy. She cannot afford to be seen as anything but capable at this point in time.”

 

Lyna nodded in acknowledgement as Zevran laid it all out for them.

 

“And where were the Wardens while the two newest members; who were still wet behind the ears were off stopping a blight all by themselves? Who were also uniting a kingdom split by civil war and raising an army to fight at their backs?” He asked pointedly. “Not where they should have been, and all of Thedas saw it! The few they sent to Ostagar perished.” Zevran paused a moment as Lyna and Alistair bowed their heads for lost friends.

 

When they both looked back up at him, Zevran continued in a more somber yet heated tone, “The backup that was supposed to be on the border awaiting the King's summons, never showed; even after word reached them that the King and their brothers had fallen.” He tsked the faux pas, then continued, “They _should_ have been the first reinforcements into the fray to fight the blight, to do what the two of you struggled to accomplish. To successful ends I might add, but that is beside the point.”

 

“Then they sent an Orlesian into Ferelden territory to rebuild the order who only managed to make things worse for them.” Zevran clicked his tongue before continuing, “They’ve made a very big mess of things and they need the glowing reputation of our Hero of Ferelden to get the world back in their good graces again.”

 

Zevran became even more excited as he continued to piece together Lyna’s plans. “Finally, you have my craftily created position which will give pause to those that know of the hierarchy within the Crows. To those that don’t, it may just appear a vague reference to your griffons of the past. We can even work in an insignia to ‘encourage’ that line of thought, if you’d like. Most importantly, it gives me the ability to stay by your side and use my skills to protect those that I care for without all that messy conscription business. A double edged title, if you will. You two get an Arling and a handsome bodyguard to guard your backsides. Very nice backsides, I might add, I could gaze for hours.” Zevran teased his friends who both dutifully blushed at his compliment.

 

Zevran’s eyes lit up and Lyna could tell that he had already started planning just how far he could take his new role. “Plus, with me not being tied to the order as you are, I will have the freedom to handle your more, uh… shall we say, delicate conflicts--discreetly. Just think of the possibilities! `I can have my own shadow of agents! Let my grey clad ‘spies’ do the dirty work while you remain the shining pillars of decency. Do you think the name ‘The Grey Talon’ would be sexy enough to represent my charges? Too much? No?”

 

Alistair groaned but Lyna just giggled at Zevran’s enthusiasm. She laid her head on Alistair’s shoulder and squeezed him tightly before finishing off Zevran’s analysis in all seriousness, “What they _both_ need to understand; is I don’t _need_ either one of them, it is _they_ that need me. And I will happily go on my merry way and leave them to flounder, should _you_ not be able to come with me.” She sighed heavily before continuing in a whisper, “I lost you once, I don’t want to lose you again, not if I have any say in the matter.”

 

Alistair kissed the top of her head, “You won’t, my love, now that we’re together again, it’s going to take a legion of Crows dancing the Remigold to pry you out of my cold dead arms.”

 

Lyna chuckled, “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Now that you mention it, though,” She raised her head and looked into Alistair's eyes, “You did offer to dance the Remigold for me once.” She finished with a smirk.

 

Alistair chuckled, “Yes love, but only if the dress was pretty enough.”

 

“Perhaps I have some more shopping to do then?” Zevran chimed in and winked at Lyna before continuing. “So, it’s all settled, some seductive letter writing, followed by a little trip to Amaranthine to save the day--again. When shall we begin?”

 

Lyna and Alistair looked at one another and she answered for them, “I can draw up the letters tonight, I suppose, then send two of the Wardens off in opposite directions tomorrow to deliver them. The other two can escort us back to Vigil’s Keep where we will wait for the replies to my messages.”

 

Alistair groaned, “I don’t suppose you’ll be sending Oghren off with one of those messages will you?” He asked hopefully.

 

“What, and miss all of his colorful stories of adventure and debauchery? You can’t be serious!” Lyna teased, then responded in all seriousness “As obnoxious as he can be, I trust Oghren to have our backs; and with four of the original team back together again, we’ll have a better chance at having Anora leave us alone. Plus, I want to hear his account of what happened for things to get so bad, we’ll need all the information we can get before we can start fixing their blunders. I believe Nathaniel will be joining us as well. All we need now is a mage or two and a Qunari and it’ll be almost like old times!”

 

Lyna stifled a yawn and Zevran couldn’t pass up the opportunity, “Looks like someone hasn’t been getting enough sleep.” He teased. “You two best be off and get started on the letters, or whatever it is you are wont to do. I will see what provisions I can procure this evening before we set out in the morning. Or, would you two prefer to stick around for another day or two?”

 

Lyna and Alistair grinned at each other, but it was Alistair who responded this time, “Didn’t I hear you say we were paid up through the end of the week? Why rush things? We can meet in the morning as promised, then go draft our letters. The two Warden-turned messengers, can be off by tomorrow afternoon, but that doesn’t mean we have to leave right away does it? I think we’ve earned a little time to ourselves after all.”

 

Lyna smiled, “You better be careful, my love, we may turn you into a leader yet.”

 

“What?! Me lead?! No, no, no, no, no! Bad things happen when I lead. Remember that time? No pants!” He said with horror.

 

Lyna whispered into his ear, “I can think of worse things than to have you pantsless, my heart.” Alistair’s blush from earlier deepened as he tightened his grip around her waist.

 

Zevran chucked, having heard her lewd comment. “Ok you two, off you go before I forget myself and try to join in on your playtime. Out, out. My willpower isn’t strong enough to withstand such delicious things! Go!” They laughed as Zevran shuffled them out the door.


	25. The Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

**The Proposal**

* * *

 

As they entered their room, Alistair headed toward the fire to build it up again while Lyna sifted through her packs to take inventory of what they might need for the journey ahead. When she finished, she looked over at Alistair; he seemed lost in the flames while fidgeting with something in his pocket.

 

Approaching from behind, she wrapped her arms around him and placed her cheek on his back between his shoulder blades. “What is it, my love? What has you looking so pensive?”

 

He unclasped her fingers so he could turn to face her then wrapped his arms around her tiny frame. He pulled her to his chest and breathed her in before kissing her forehead. “I was just thinking; here we go again, _swooping_ in to fix things that we didn’t break in the first place. I fear our leisure time will soon be as limited as it was before.” Closing his eyes, he reached down and placed a tender kiss on her lips; lingering a moment longer than necessary to savor the taste of her.

 

Lyna hummed in appreciation, “I missed those kisses.” She peered up into his eyes and wondered at the hesitation, fear, hope, then determination that seemed to cross through them. She cocked her head to one side in question as they continued to linger in each other’s gazes.

 

Alistair took a deep breath before he began, “During the blight, before I uh... left. I had something made for you. I kept waiting for the perfect time, the perfect moment to give it to you. But one never presented itself and then… it was too late.” He paused to kiss her sweetly before continuing in an almost whisper, “I am afraid to wait any longer. I know now that the time will only be perfect, if _we_ make it so.”

 

Fidgeting once again, Alistair took a step back, extracting himself from her embrace. He pulled the other bundle that the barkeep handed him out of his pocket. Holding it between them, Lyna saw that it was a small, blue-velvet pouch.

 

“During one of our visits into Denerim, I talked with Master Wade about what I needed and he agreed to make this for me. Well, for _you_ , actually.”

 

Her hands shaking, Lyna took the small pouch from Alistair’s proffered hand and opened the drawstring closure. Inside, something shiny glinted at her. She looked up at Alistair then back down, too afraid to say anything, as if it would break the spell of the moment. Upending the pouch onto her palm, an intricately crafted ring slid out. A red rose stood at its center with a ruby enfolded into the middle of its delicately molded petals; the stem of the flower was made from a green tinged metal fashioned into a circle for her finger.

 

Alistair took the ring from her palm, “I don’t know how this is supposed to work where you’re from. All I know is what I feel, and want, and hope. I gave you a rose once before and said that it reminded me of you. But I see now that my assessment wasn’t entirely accurate. You see, roses, wilt and die…” Lyna instinctively grasped the pouch which hung around her neck while Alistair continued,

 

“You, my love, are so much stronger than that. As is my love for you. So I had another rose made, to reflect that strength and beauty in the hopes that someday...”

 

Never losing contact with her now misting eyes, Alistair got down on his knee. “Lyna Mahariel of Clan Sabrae, Commander of the Grey, Arlessa of Amaranthine, Hero of Ferelden, and Love of my Life, would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?” He held his breath while he waited for her to respond.

 

He didn’t have to wait long, Lyna pulled him back to his feet and kissed him soundly. Her voice heavy with emotion, Lyna finally managed to extract a solid, “Yes, Oh Alistair, Of course I will!” between their kisses.

 

Alistair laughed with joy as he picked her up and spun her around. With tears leaking down his own cheeks, he set her back down and kissed her again before pulling back only far enough to place the ring on her finger. “I don’t have much to offer you, no home, no dowry, I don’t really even know if I have a name to share with you--”

 

She smiled, wiping away her own tears, “You know I never cared about any of that. Who we were before, is all in the past. What we have-- ” She looked down at the ring on her finger, “What we do with our future, is _our choice_ ; as long as we’re together, the rest will all fall into place. You are my home, my clan, my life! Theirin is your name. Your bloodline was acknowledged, even though you abdicated the throne, and I would be honored to share it with you. Oh Alistair--”

 

Her next words were lost as Alistair had picked her up again and claimed her lips with his own. Their kiss deepened, words no longer necessary to express their love and desire for each other. Lyna wrapped her legs around Alistair’s waist and felt his burgeoning arousal through their clothes. Grinding herself against him in invitation, he carried her over to the bed and laid her down gently.

 

Eyes heavily lidded with desire, Alistair licked his lips as he began to unbutton her chemise. Following each unfastened button with kisses heavy with tongue, he tasted his way down from her clavicle toward the ripe swells of her breasts.

 

Never releasing her grip around his waist, Lyna continued to rut and grind against him, making it increasingly difficult for him to focus on said buttons.

 

Giving up, he pulled her top over her head exposing her breast band which he quickly untied and threw across the room to Lyna’s amused giggles.

 

She arched her back as Alistair’s mouth found one of her nipples, circling it with his tongue. Taking advantage of her arched back, he tucked both of his hands underneath her body and ran them up over her shoulder blades caressing her skin. When his hands reached the top of her shoulders he gripped them firmly. Growling low in his throat, he pulled himself up tight against her body. His throbbing cock crushed against her hot pussy. The pleasure and pain was excruciating, yet tantalizing. He needed more of this amazing woman who just agreed to be his wife. _His_ wife. He loved the sound of that.

 

He gently bit at her already hard nipple, then ran his tongue soothingly around her areola. The pain, followed by pleasure, caused her to make the most delicious sounds while thrusting her breasts out for more attention. Alistair savored every moan and squeal he extracted from her. Her voice singing to him like a siren of the seas. He was drawn to her, needed her. Every moan and squeal, only fanning the burning desire raging inside of him.

 

“Alistair!” She begged. “I want to feel you. I _need_ to feel all of you!”

 

Releasing his grip on her shoulders, he ran his calloused hands down her back until he found the waistband of her breeches. Standing at the side of the bed, he pulled them and her smalls off in one deft motion.  

 

Sliding her ass to the edge of the bed, he knelt before her to worship all she had to offer. Wrapping her legs over the tops of his shoulders, he kissed his way up her thighs. Parting her lips with two of his fingers, he ran his tongue lightly over her inner folds, savoring her juices. Teasing her already taut clitoris with his tongue, she bucked underneath him and tightened her legs around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

 

Alistair hmm’d to himself as he worked her over. Adding a finger to the fray, he gently dipped the tip into her tight entrance, coating it with her essence. He removed it and slowly slid it up her inner folds then back down to tease her other puckered opening without penetrating its barrier. He pressed gently and rubbed a small circle before returning his finger to her wet and welcoming entrance, only to repeat the process to ever encouraging sounds.

 

Lyna moaned and writhed to his ministrations. Her head was swimming with pleasure as he worked her pussy with his incredibly talented tongue and fingers. Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore and was about to slip over the brink toward oblivion, he would change his rhythm, add or remove a finger; keeping her at the edge of the precipice, she didn’t know how much longer she would be able to go on. Her vision was already starting to spot and all she knew was that she wanted more of this man kneeling before her.

 

This amazing man, who just asked her to marry him. He knew her better than anyone else ever would. When her head began to roll from side to side and her hips began to buck and shake uncontrollably, he redirected his attentions and focused on granting her the release she needed.

 

As her inner walls began to constrict with the first waves of her release, Alistair abandoned all contact with her quivering mound. Lyna was too far gone to wonder where he’d disappeared to but didn’t have to wait long as she felt the blunt tip of his cock slowly pushing its way into her tightly constricting walls. The feel of him fighting through her orgasm as he slowly penetrated her folds sent her reeling to new heights. She threw her head back and screamed with renewed pleasure as he worked himself inside of her.

 

“Maker’s breath, Lyna, you are so tight.” Alistair was gasping to keep focus. He was only getting started, but with how tight she currently was, he was going to come soon if he wasn’t careful. Pausing fully inside of her, he decided to let Lyna finish enjoying her orgasm before he worked her up to another; if only to keep himself grounded. He groaned with his own pleasure as he stood before her, unmoving, and felt her body involuntarily work the thick shaft of his cock.

 

He watched her chest heave with every gasped breath she took. Her nipples hard and begging to be touched and tongued. Her eyes still closed as she rode her climax to completion. Alistair smiled to himself, knowing that he was the one to bring her so much pleasure. It was a huge stroke to his ego to see her continuing to writhe out the pleasure he had brought her--long after he had stopped actively giving.  

 

As her body’s aftershocks began to subside, Alistair slid himself almost all the way out with deliberateness, then watched his length slowly disappear back inside of her. He was mesmerized by every delicious thrust as her body swallowed him completely. His dick glistened with her juices as he withdrew and penetrated her again and again with the same unhurried rhythm.

 

Holding onto her thighs with his hands, her ankles resting comfortably on his shoulders, Alistair began to kiss the parts of her legs he could reach, while thrusting at his own leisurely pace. Savoring the feel of her enveloping him, the taste of her on his tongue, and the view of her naked body laid out before him, Alistair wanted this moment to last.

 

Lyna’s head began to clear as she focused on the feeling of Alistair sliding with deliberate focus in and out of her recovering core. She moaned with the steady rhythm of his body rocking against hers as she directed her attention to the delicious feeling of his thick rod plunging inside of her. The backs of her legs pressed firmly against his torso, allowed for his lips to tenderly brush against her ankles while his fingers gently caressed her thighs. He would only grip them tightly with the occasional forceful thrust of his hips.

 

When she was finally able to open her eyes, she sought out his. Smiling up at him, she was rewarded with a look of such adoration and fervor that, it alone, brought her over the edge once again.

 

This time, her orgasm washed over her like a gentle rolling wave. Enveloping and caressing her from her toes to the top of her head and back again. It held her close, breathed her in, and released her into the ether. Floating free, Lyna knew that nothing could compare to the connection she and Alistair shared. The way he made her feel was like nothing else she’d ever experienced.

 

Coming down from her cloud for the third time, she crooned to her love, “Please, Alistair, I need to touch you. I need to feel your weight on me.”

 

Leaning forward, Alistair wrapped his arms around his Lyna and lifting her lithe body, sliding them both back up onto the bed. Never losing contact. Never fully withdrawing. Using each movement to enhance his thrusts within his beloved.

 

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him down for a kiss. Savoring his heat radiating against her breasts. Not quite touching; the air between them teasing and tickling her hypersensitive skin. Lyna arched her back to feel the hair of his chest tantalize her further as her nipples grazed his chest. Craving even more contact, she wrapped her legs around his waist, opening herself up for even deeper penetration. Pulling him down fully upon her, she moaned his name as their bodies pressed together.

 

While their lips and tongues danced, her hands ran lovingly over the muscular contour of his back. Tracing each ridge and valley, she was memorizing him by her touch alone. They belonged together, and she never wanted to forget any inch of him.

 

Running her fingers through his hair, Lyna gently ran them over the outer ridge of Alistair’s ear causing his even rhythm to falter. Trying to pick up his pace again, she repeated the action on his other ear. Alistair chuckled at Lyna who was grinning mischievously up at him now.

 

“So you want to play, do you?” Alistair said to the beautiful woman who was to be his wife. She grinned up at him in response. Tightening her grip around his waist, she locked her ankles together behind him and slid herself up onto his cock with a particularly forceful movement. He groaned as he felt himself touch the very depths of her core as their bodies slammed together. Not being one to be outmaneuvered so easily, he retaliated in kind, driving himself home, harder and faster than she did him, then returned to his slow languid motions.

 

Lyna kissed him deeply. Releasing his lips, she turned her attentions towards his ears once again.

 

Alistair tried to pull away from her wicked mouth, but she was relentless. Finally extracting himself from her arms and legs, he lay still inside of her. He murmured softly into Lyna’s ear, “You are an evil, evil woman, you know that, right? Whatever shall I do with you?” He said teasingly as he slowly withdrew his shaft from within her.

 

As she grinned deviously up at him and went for his ears again, he grinned just as evilly back at her. “You say you want to touch me, yet you aren’t playing fair, my love. Perhaps it’s time to roll you over to keep you away from my ears.” He said crooking an eyebrow in invitation.

 

Lyna’s eyes went wide with excitement, sitting up she claimed his mouth with her own. Releasing his swollen lips, she said breathlessly, “Anything you want, my love.”

 

Rolling over onto her hands and knees she prostrated herself before him. Laying her head and chest onto the mattress with her beautiful round ass in the air waiting for his attention.

 

Alistair swallowed audibly as he gripped her cheeks. He positioned her legs tight together with his bracketing hers on the outside. He could see the swollen lips of her pussy, peeking through her delicately trimmed hair. Sidling up behind her, he probed her opening once, twice with the swollen tip of his cock. Finally sliding himself home, he groaned with pleasure with how little room there was for him inside of her now.

 

“Sweet Maker!” He exclaimed, “I thought you were tight before!” He withdrew slowly, but the sensations were too exquisite, he wanted more and he needed it now! Slamming himself back inside of her, he heard her cry out with pleasure as he hit that perfect spot inside of her.

 

“Yes!” Lyna begged, “Creators, do that again!”

 

Alistair obliged, though in truth, he wasn’t sure he could do otherwise. She was so tight, so wet, and the feeling of her surrounding his throbbing shaft made him ready to burst.

 

His thrusting was coming much faster now and just as hard. His head was swimming and he began to feel that familiar warmth stirring up from deep inside of him. “Lyna I’m…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

 

Alistair saw his love reach down between her legs as she said, “I want to come with you, please.”

 

He could tell she was close as well, he only needed to hold on for a few more strokes. As he felt her begin to constrict around him, he finally let himself go. Filling her completely, he growled out her name as their bodies locked together in bliss.

 

He held them both still as their aftershocks pulsed through them. Alistair caressed her back and beautiful round ass still pressed firmly against his body until her shudders subsided and his quickly deflating member began its own tactical retreat from within her.

 

Withdrawing completely, he rolled over and pulled her down to his chest. Smiling contentedly, he kissed her forehead, then her nose before gently laying a kiss on her lips.  

 

“You, my love, are amazing and wonderful and I just…” Alistair took a breath while he tried to collect the rest of his thought. “How did I ever get so lucky?” He asked.

 

Lyna grinning lovingly back up at her sweet, sweet Alistair. “I think I am the lucky one. I never thought I could be so content and happy. With whatever happens next, I will be at peace as long as I have you at my side.”

 

Kissing her again, Alistair asked, “So, before we got swept away by our passions--not that I am complaining, mind you--we were discussing marriage.” He squeezed her tightly and kissed her again before continuing. “When would you like to begin planning our wedding? Do you want a big event with all of our friends? Something small? Now? Later? I have so many questions, but knowing that you will, is all that I need now if you’d rather save this discussion for later.”

 

Lyna smiled and gazed down at the ring on her finger. “I’ve never been one for pomp and ceremony, so I certainly don’t need a big wedding. I love you, I will only ever want you. I think we’ve waited long enough already. I fear that if we wait any longer, something else will come along and keep us apart. So, if you’re ok with it, I’d like to marry before we leave Kirkwall. Is that too soon?”

 

Alistair kissed her deeply and when he finally came up for air, he pressed his forehead to hers, “No, my love, nothing would make me happier.”


	26. Family Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

**Family Ties**

* * *

 

**Amaranthine - Dragon 9:33**

Reconstruction of the port city of Amaranthine took just under a year to complete. The new Warden-Commander and her Constable were a constant presence during the proceedings. Their commitment to helping the people rebuild their lives, endeared the new Arl and Arlessa to their constituents. Not ones to ever worry about getting their hands dirty, they worked right alongside farmers, shopkeepers, and chantry folk alike to make the reparations needed to get the populace back on its feet. The Wardens of Vigil’s Keep were a constant, reassuring presence to the folks who’d lost everything. Those that suffered loss were not left to starve and rebuild alone and for this they were beyond grateful.

 

Now that the city was returned to its former glory and the crops had been harvested in preparation of the coming winter; the people of Amaranthine came together to hold a celebration in honor of their lives returning to normal.

 

Their guests of honor stood side by side as a line of townsfolk took turns in offering their sincere gratitude for taking such a personal approach to helping them. Those that worked with Lyna and Alistair knew that bowing or curtseying was not required. Everyone was greeted by name with a handshake, or in some cases, a hug with the familiarity only increasing the merriment of the event.

 

At the end of the line, they recognized their old friend, Wynne standing with an unfamiliar elven mage that had dark skin and short brown hair. The two older women were talking quietly yet heatedly when they approached the Wardens. Dropping their conversation, the mages turned to the Arl & Arlessa in greeting.

 

Lyna smiled warmly at her old friend and embraced her with affection. She then turned to the new mage with a smile. “Are you new to the area? I don’t remember seeing you here during our recent work? I am Lyna Theirin and this is my husband, Alistair.”

 

The dark haired mage responded in a heavily Orlesian accent, “I am very familiar with who the two of you are as your reputations precede you. It is my pleasure to finally make your acquaintances. My name is Fiona. I have only just arrived in your fair city. From what Wynne has told me of your efforts thus far, you are to be commended on how quickly you’ve won over the hearts of those you serve.”

 

Fiona turned her gaze to Alistair with a strange, almost wistful, look in her eye before schooling it and continuing in a hushed tone, “Duncan spoke most highly of you, Alistair. I must say, you have exceeded all of our expectations. I know he would be very proud of you.”

 

Alistair stared in surprise before finding his voice, “You knew Duncan? Wait… Fiona? _The Fiona_? Weren’t you…” He trailed off as she cast a warning look in his direction before glancing around to see who might be within earshot.

 

“Perhaps that is a story for a more private meeting. But to answer your first question, yes, I knew Duncan. I was at his joining, in fact. I came to the city in hopes to have a private meeting with you both. There are a few delicate matters I wish to discuss and the fewer ears to overhear, the better. I would be happy to answer any questions you may also have at that time.”

 

They agreed to meet again over a private supper at the Keep the following evening. Lyna and Alistair shared a curious look but decided that all of their questions would be answered in due time.

 

As Fiona and Wynne departed, Zevran appeared out of nowhere, “Well that was intriguing. I must say, I am most curious as to what our new guest has to divulge. It does whet the appetite, yes? Shall I make the usual arrangements for security at the Arling?”

 

Lyna and Alistair, now very used to Zevran’s ability to pop in and out without detection, barely changed their breathing at his sudden appearance. It was Alistair that answered his question, “Yes, though something tells me we won’t be needing it. I do not believe I have met Fiona before, I’ve only heard the rumors, but there is something about her that seems very… familiar.”

 

Lyna looked up at Alistair in question, but decided to trust his instincts. “Do what you feel is best, Zev. We know you’re just going to do it your way anyway.” She smiled affectionately at him. “I would always prefer to be more prepared and not have it be needed, rather than be taken by surprise.”

 

He nodded in acknowledgement with a sly smirk before disappearing back into the shadows; leaving Lyna and Alistair to enjoy the rest of the festivities.  

 

~*~

 

The following evening after their meal, Alistair, Lyna, and Fiona sat around the table, nursing their drinks. Zevran was monitoring the room from his usual hiding spot. Fiona got right to the point of her requested visit. Looking at Alistair she said, “I think it’s time you knew--I am your Mother.”

 

“You’re my what?” Alistair shot up, knocking over his chair. He grasped at what he thought he knew and asked in disbelief, “How could you be…?” He touched his ears before trying another “...but the castle maid...  and Goldanna?” He finished lamely. His mouth continued to move fishlike for a moment before he finally righted his chair and sat back down. Taking a long drink of his tea, he tried to calm his nerves. For the first time in over a year, he wished it was something stronger.

 

Lyna laid her hand on her husband’s arm in comfort, “That is…quite surprising. We met up with who we _thought_ was Alistair’s sister and her story matched with the stories he was told. How can this be?”

 

“The maid he thought was his mother, was a convenient cover to hide the truth. She lived in the palace with her daughter, Goldanna and was with child, though Alistair was not the boy she’d been pregnant with. There were… complications with the birth and sadly, the two didn’t survive. It did however, provide a perfect story to explain my son’s presence.” Fiona explained patiently.

 

“So you were ashamed to have me?” He asked, hurt clearly written on his face.

 

“No, that is not it at all. What your father and I shared touched us both deeply. But we knew we could never be together, our separate duties pulled us to the opposite ends of Thedas. We also worried about the kind of life you would have growing up with the two of us as your parents. He and I agreed that we wanted better for you than what _we_ could provide.”

 

Alistair looked skeptical. “A King and a Warden couldn’t provide for their son?” He said with disbelief, “So, what… growing up an unwanted, unloved, bastard would be better than knowing that you two were my parents all along?”

 

“Growing up _free_ _to choose_ the path you wanted to walk in life, would be better than being constantly ridiculed as the half-elf, bastard prince, to a mage and former Warden.” She shot back with vehemence before taking a breath and beginning again in a softer tone.

 

“You were never _unwanted_ nor were ever _unloved_ Alistair, but we had to make some difficult choices to help keep you safe from the life that both of us feared for you to experience. Not because we didn’t think you capable of handling it, but because we didn’t want you to have to suffer on account of who your parents were.” With pain clearly written in her deep brown eyes, Fiona paused to collect her thoughts and get back on track.

 

“We did what we thought was best for you. You were always watched over Alistair, Arl Eamon did the best he could with you and Duncan was my personal connection to you over the years. Along with his duties to the Wardens, he would frequently come through to check on you at Redcliffe and later on at the Chantry. It was his job to watch over you from afar, to make sure you were safe and we _hoped_ that you would eventually find your own shade of happiness.” Fiona looked pointedly at Lyna while finishing the last word.

 

“Duncan knew too?” Alistair rested his head in both of his hands on the table and just grumbled to himself as Fiona continued.

 

“Duncan not only knew, but he was always there for you. He was with us on our mission in the deep roads; the same mission I was on when I met your father. He was at my side during my pregnancy and at your birth. He even insisted on coming with me when we presented you to your father after you were born. _He_ knew you better than anyone, Alistair and though he wasn’t of our blood, I know that he thought of you as family and loved you a great deal.”


	27. The Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

 

**The Cure**

* * *

 

Alistair sniffed and wiped an errant tear from his eye, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of all the secrets that were unfolding before him or if it was due to her declaration of Duncan’s affection for him. This was a lot for him to absorb.

 

Feeling overwhelmed, he got up and began pacing around the room talking to himself. Alistair was processing everything that Fiona told him, though only broken bits of his personal conversation reached their ears. “a mother… after all this time… half-elf… Duncan knew… never told me…” He proceeded to grumble more half thoughts to himself while Lyna and Fiona continued to sit at the table.

 

Fiona turned her attention towards Lyna while Alistair paced the room. Lyna was sitting calmly and seemed genuinely intrigued by what Fiona had to share. Looking at Lyna and Alistair now, Fiona was painfully reminded of the bittersweet time she shared with Maric. Though, these two were much better suited to each other than she’d ever been suited to Maric with as headstrong and angry as she’d been at the time.  

 

Fiona continued ruminating while looking at her daughter-in-law, “I had hoped to keep him from the death sentence that goes along with becoming a Grey Warden, but Duncan saw that he was unhappy in the Chantry and made the call to conscript him instead of having him endure the life of a Templar. It wasn’t his choice to join the chantry in the first place after all. So Duncan thought to offer him the only other option at his disposal.”

 

Looking at her son, Fiona ventured a small smile, “You have done well for yourself as a Warden. You have accomplished so much within the order. Gained great respect amongst your peers as well as those you care for and govern. You have also grown into an admirable man and devoted husband. Even _I_ can see how your love for each other has prevailed against all odds. Those in command, that would see the two of you separated rather than have your relationship interfere with your duties, are being shown that together… you are stronger. Together, you can accomplish so much more.”

 

She sighed mournfully, “Due to circumstances beyond our control, or so we thought at the time, Maric and I never had a chance to enjoy that kind of life together. We were never brave enough to break the molds that society set down for us. The same molds the two of you have effortlessly shattered. I would wish to see you continue to enjoy this life together for many years to come.”

 

Fiona’s smile faded as she continued, “I know that I wasn’t there for you growing up, Alistair. I don’t expect to be forgiven or welcomed with open arms. I came here tonight for two reasons. The first, was because I felt it past time that you knew the truth of your birth. The second, was to share with you an opportunity for an unknown, unwritten future. One currently unavailable to any other Warden.”

 

Fiona pulled a small onyx trinket from within one of her pouches and caressed it while she continued to speak, “I have seen too many Wardens succumb to their calling. So many promising lives ended much too soon. Seeing the two of you so happily together, I would wish to offer you a chance for more. The opportunity to live and love beyond the usual twenty to thirty years that Wardens are given. To be free from your taint and never have to answer The Calling.”

 

Alistair stopped his pacing and looked at Lyna who looked… curious? Hopeful? If she was willing to hear Fiona…  his _mother_ , out then he would follow her lead. Coming up behind Lyna he rested his hands gently on her shoulders and squeezed; more to reassure himself than her, but the effect was equally calming.

 

Having their full attention, Fiona set the brooch down on the table in front of them. “The stories you may have heard about me are true. That is, I was once a Warden and now I am no longer. I will never hear The Calling. I no longer feel when darkspawn are present nor do I feel when other Wardens are near. I have effectively slipped free of the noose wrapped around the throat of every new Warden at their joining.”

 

Lyna and Alistair heard the rumors, but hearing the truth come from Fiona herself was different. The fact that neither of them could sense the taint in her left them both in awe and fully convinced. After looking at each other briefly, they turned back to Fiona and Alistair gestured for her to continue.

 

“At first, I resented being cured. I begged to become what you are. For a time, it defined me, helped me to see that I could do good and be a part of something greater than myself. It gave me purpose.”

 

She sighed wistfully, “When it was gone, I tried to undertake the joining again and again, but to no avail. It seems, I am now immune to the taint. We’ve attempted to duplicate the ritual that cured me, to see if we could get it to work on other Wardens. We hoped to see if we could reverse the process before a Warden began hearing The Calling. If we were successful, that would mean that joining our order would no longer be an automatic death sentence. But nothing we tried could duplicate what had been done to me. Others in the order began to treat me differently. I once again felt like a pariah amongst those that I had previously called brothers. It was both a gift and a curse. I finally left Weishaupt and returned to life in the circle to continue my research there.”

 

She indicated the brooch laying on the table, “This charm was enchanted to accelerate the Darkspawn’s taint within the Warden who wore it. I’d been instructed to wear it during our foray into the deep roads when I met your father; only I was told its purpose was to cloak our taint from the darkspawn so they wouldn’t be able to detect us.” She chuckled ruefully, “how trusting and naive we were back then.”

 

Fiona dug into another bag and produced a dusty tome. It had a well-worn leather cover with faded runes etched into it. She laid this on the table next to the brooch.

 

“We collected all of the research we could find about the making of these broaches. We used that knowledge to create the ritual that would reverse its effects. The ritual that for some reason, completely removed the taint from my body and continues to protect me from it today. Everything we learned is in here and yet, even with fastidious attention to duplicating my circumstances, we could never get it to work again.”

 

Fiona sighed heavily, “I have spent much of my time over the years researching this. Why was I different than the others that we attempted the same exact cure on? What made it work for me and not them? I was at a loss, so decided to travel to see if other mages could help me glean what I was missing. I eventually made it up to Tevinter where I ran into Wynne who was doing some research on golems, I believe. She was more than happy to help me look into this little mystery. Especially since, if we succeeded, the benefits would specifically affect you both and Wynne has grown very fond of the both of you.”

 

A spark of excitement danced in Fiona’s eyes. “The two of us puzzled through these notes again and again and finally the missing piece fell into our laps. One morning, when we convened in the great library, a historical tome was left out on a table. Flipping through it absently, a name caught my attention--Theirin.” she smiled at the memory and continued talking directly to Alistair. “When I was cured, I was pregnant with _you_ at the time. Pregnant with one of the Theirin line. The book didn’t have many details, but there was an obscure reference to your family’s bloodline being different. Something about it, about you, reacted with the ritual to cleanse me of this taint.”

 

Lyna reached up and grasped Alistair’s hand still resting on her shoulder, “So you’re saying that my husband holds the cure to all Wardens?”

 

“Yes!” Fiona exclaimed excitedly. “Not just Alistair, but Cailan and Maric; every Theirin all the way back to Calenhad carried the answer within them. There is something special about their bloodline, though as of yet, we haven’t been able to discern exactly what it is that makes it so. Regardless, Wynne and I believe that we now know how to duplicate the ritual to remove the taint from you so that you will never have to answer The Calling. This is the second item that I have come here to offer you tonight. A chance to live a long life together, to never have to end your days in the deep roads like so many Wardens have done before.”

 

Fiona was practically radiating excitement, though her actions were still calm and collected, her eyes were bright and shining with a passion for what she discovered.

 

Alistair spoke cautiously, “When we met yesterday, you were hesitant to discuss this in public. But a cure for The Calling is a pretty big discovery, why hide it?”

 

Fiona’s face fell slightly, “Because you are the _last_ of your bloodline. No one must know this secret or it would put your life in danger. This is, at the moment, only conjecture as we haven’t yet been able to duplicate the ritual without Theirin blood to prove our theory. But should you choose to accept my help, we could prove it together.” She finished with a hopeful smile.

 

“Is this ritual something that you would be able to perform for us? And does it require the use of blood magic?” Lyna asked the mage fearfully.

 

“The ritual is a simple matter that doesn’t require a mage to perform, so yes I could do it for you, as could Wynne or you could perform it yourselves should you wish. That should answer your second question as well. It is not blood magic as you may think you know it. The ceremony holds similarities to the Joining ritual, though instead of darkspawn blood, we would be using Alistair’s mixed in with the rest of the components to make the cure work. It is more alchemy than magic.” Fiona attempted to reassure them.

 

She continued to caution them, “At this time, only the four of us are aware of what is at stake should word get out. Or should I say five, as I’m sure your spymaster is keeping his dutiful watch upon you as we speak. So discretion is of the utmost importance.” She smiled knowingly into a corner while Alistair gazed down into his wife’s hopeful eyes.

 

He watched his wife’s reaction to this revelation and was fully focused on how interested she appeared to be. He would do anything for Lyna. If this was a path she wanted to take, he would gladly walk through anything to make it happen. They’d only recently began lamenting the short lifespan of the Wardens and had both resigned themselves to a life without children considering it was almost unheard of for a Warden to reproduce; having two Warden’s together seemed like an impossibility to conceive any offspring. Not willing to let either of those things deter them, they decided to just enjoy their time together as much as possible. This was the life they’d been given and they would make the absolute best of it. But now… were there truly other possibilities to hope for?

 

Fiona finished her wine and rose from her seat. Her two hosts stood with her as she said, “I have given you much to think about and discuss together. I thank you for allowing me to stay with you for the evening. I will retire and let you both discuss your options. And Alistair, I sincerely apologize for keeping my relationship to you secret for all this time. I see now that my fear of your reaction based on my race was completely unfounded.” She looked pointedly at Lyna while smiling fondly. “Please know that it was never you that kept me away, only my own cowardice. I don't expect you to ever fully forgive me, but I do hope, that with time, you will perhaps allow me to get to know you better. I have never had a family myself, other than the Wardens or my peers in the circle. Please know that I will always be available to you, should you want or need me to be.”

 

Fiona bid them goodnight and let herself out.

 

 


	28. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

**Reclaiming The Heart**

**The End**

* * *

Lyna sat and watched the empty space that Fiona occupied for several moments after she left. She was trying to take stock of what she felt about what she just learned. On one hand, Alistair had a mother. A family member besides herself that she knew meant the world to him. This alone would have been incredible, but she had also offered the possibility of a long future together. A future with children? Neither of them dared hope to raise a family with the double taint running through their veins. The odds were very much against them ever conceiving. They’d never taken precautions to avoid having children ,and after so long together, Lyna just accepted that it wasn’t meant to be. But now? Faced with the possibility of a new and unknown future, she barely dared to hope.

 

Taking her husband’s hand, she led Alistair over to the sofa by the fire. Gazing lovingly into his eyes, she very gently ran a finger over the outer ridge of his ear. Smiling knowingly, she broke their silence, “Well, my love, I believe that we now have our answer as to why your ears are almost as sensitive as mine.” She winked at him before kissing him tenderly.

 

Alistair chuckled as he returned her kiss. “I guess that’s true. It’s weird, you know. I mean, wow… just… wow. Fiona is my _mother_. That sounds.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That sounds, nice actually. I have a mother.” He smiled a goofy grin while staring into the flame.

 

“It explains why Duncan always felt more like a father to me too. He’d been there my whole life. My own personal guardian angel.” He pulled Lyna into a tight embrace and laughed at the new image of his old mentor. “Here I thought I already had everything a man could want. I have the most beautiful and amazing wife in all of Thedas and now… my Mother has offered us a chance to actually grow old together and maybe have a family.” Alistair said the last word with a breathless sigh.

 

Looking into Lyna’s eyes, Alistair seemed to be searching for something, “We never really talked about children before. They weren’t really an option, but now… would you? Could you ever see yourself as a mother? I mean, would you want to be?” Alistair was stumbling over his words like he hadn’t since they first were discovering their feelings for each other.

 

Lyna leaned in and kissed him passionately. Pulling away only enough to gaze into his eyes, she responded with certainty, “To be a mother to _your_ children? Nothing would make me happier.”

 

Breaking into their moment, Zevran asked, “What? No one is going to ask about how I would feel about being an uncle? How inconsiderate of you! I would think _my_ feelings would be taken into account as well after all we’ve been through together. This would be a big step for all three of us, you see.” He winked at them both while picking up Lyna’s wine glass and finishing it off for her.

 

Lyna chuckled. “And how would _you_ feel about being an uncle, dear Zevran? I wouldn’t think family life would suit you at all.”

 

“No, no--no children of my own, thank you very much. But we are not talking about me. The two of you, however? I would be delighted to teach your little ones all that I know about the world: picking locks, fighting with daggers, avoiding detection, matters of the heart, massage techniques that dear Alistair here has benefitted much from, yes?”

 

Alistair and Lyna rolled their eyes then laughed together at the potential for the mischievousness brought about by children under Zevran’s watchful eye and tutelage. Lyna knew that she’d have to keep a close eye on any children that may potentially come along should Alistair and Zevran be around to influence them. She smiled fondly to herself at the possibilities of a clear and unwritten future.

 

~*~

 

The decision was ultimately an easy one for them. After some discussion, they decided that they weren’t ready yet for the cure. They still had some very rewarding work they wanted to complete before leaving for their sabbatical and hopefully their salvation. They discussed with Fiona what they would need and where they should go to put together the cure. Most of the items needed were already gathered together in Tevinter, they only needed Alistair’s blood and one or two other items that they could gather along the way. But only when they were ready.

 

They worked diligently as planned, over the next six years, all the while training their replacements and grooming Vigil’s keep for their ultimate _retirement_. Their work was rewarding, earning them even more love and respect amongst their constituents as they ruled the Arling with fair and even hands. As the time grew closer for them to leave, their correspondences with Wynne and Fiona grew more and more frequent. They prepared in secret and had much to do before they could attempt to leave the arling. The risk still seemed minimal, but the outcome was, as yet, uncertain. Though they had hope, they both preferred to prepare for _all_ outcomes, even someday-- still answering the Calling.

 

In Dragon 9:39 they felt the time was finally right for them to disappear for a while. Attentions were focused on the mage and Templar’s current round of discontention. Divine Victoria was talking about gathering a Conclave to try to work out a peaceful solution to all of the current hostilities. With the blight nearly ten years gone, the Keep fully staffed with competent Wardens and the current dissention in the world having nothing to do with them; Alistair and Lyna took that as the perfect opportunity to ‘retire’ from active duty. Nathaniel Howe was promoted to the position of Warden Commander of Ferelden so that they could be free to travel before eventually retiring to their estate within the Arling to spend their remaining years together.

 

No one but Zevran, Fiona, and Wynne knew of their true plans. Fiona was currently tied up with the mage’s fight for equality so Alistair, Lyna, and Zevran set out on their own to seek out Wynne who was waiting for them in Tevinter. Over time, they were able to gather the rest of the necessary materials needed for the cure and though Wynne was coming and going with her own stresses over the mage rebellion, she was able to perform the ritual flawlessly as she and Fiona predicted. Though their relationship had become strained over the issues with the circle, it was their mutual love for both Alistair and Lyna that kept them true to their word regardless of current mage politics.

 

Once the taint was successfully removed from their blood, they faced a new future. One that was completely unwritten and unknown to them. The trio traveled the northern lands in secret for a time, avoiding the turmoil that was plaguing their homeland in the south and just generally enjoying this new gift that had been handed to them.  

 

The world continued on in their three year absence. A new inquisition had risen to the demands of the newest threat upon Thedas, unifying Wardens, mages, and Templars once and for all in the defeat of the would be god, Corypheus. Sadly, many of the Wardens that they remembered were lost in the battles that took place in their absence; and once again, Vigil’s keep needed to rebuild its numbers. Though Lyna and Alistair were no longer technically Wardens, their vast knowledge and experience was instrumental in the rebuilding process once again.

 

It was with great sadness that they learned of Wynne’s passing. She’d sacrificed her life for the sake of her son’s happiness shortly after she performed the cleansing ritual on Alistair and Lyna. There were now only four people in all of Thedas that held the knowledge of the cure to the Warden’s taint and they held that secret close to their hearts. Though they agreed to offer the cure to those about to answer their Calling, they kept the recipe for the potion completely secret.

 

Within the first year of returning home, Lyna found herself with child and with Fiona’s assistance, delivered a healthy baby boy in early Dragon 9:43 to carry on the family line.

 

Lyna, Alistair, and their son, Duncan settled into a calm, sweet life in their Amaranthine Arling. Zevran, their ever present companion, came and went over the years. Performing his duties to his friends as well as a few side jobs here and there to keep his life ‘interesting’, as he liked to put it. He even managed to settle his debt to the Crows, though Lyna and Alistair never asked how exactly that came about. Fiona also stopped by from time to time to check on her _family_ and was always welcomed warmly though she never felt fully like she deserved it.

 

If there were ever a time to utter the phrase, “And they lived Happily Ever After” Lyna and Alistair believed that their story deserved it. Though Zevran would surely pipe in and offer his own ending to their tale:

 

“And that my friends, is how Lyna Mahariel, I mean…Theirin, Reclaimed her Heart after doing what needed to be done for the good of all Thedas. For no one deserves that kind of happiness more than she. Well perhaps Alistair, but his story would surely include a bit more cheese and slightly more bumbling, though he would do it charmingly, of course!”

 

~*~

 

Thank you my friends for sticking with me through my tale. I have one bonus morsel for you. Apparently these chapters weren’t enough to tell all that I wanted to share with you! Stay tuned for the Epilogue coming soon, I promise you won’t be disappointed.

 

 

 

 

 


	29. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for coming along for this ride.   
> Even though this work has been re-formatted and lightly edited,  
> I've chosen to leave some of my old (not so great) writing habits   
> alone. This was my first writing project after a 20 year hiatus, so it's  
> important to me to see the distance I've come on this journey I've undertaken.  
> (kinda like - awww wasn't that cute? Glad I don't write like that anymore.) ;)
> 
> Any glaring typo's or errors, I will be happy to still fix though, so if you see something, please let me know!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: All recognizable content belongs to Bioware/EA Games, though they all have my heart, only Lyna truly belongs to me; but I'm willing to share. ;)**

* * *

 

**Reclaiming the Heart**

**Epilogue**

* * *

 

**Dragon: 9:47**

Alistair sang as he rocked the two tiny bundles in the old chair by the fire. His baritone, soft and soothing by the flickering light.

 

Elgara vallas, da'len

Melava somniar

Mala taren aravas

Ara ma'desen melar

 

He was still in awe over how incredible his life turned out. He thought he’d been blissfully happy before, but these two newest additions made his heart swell to near bursting.

 

Iras ma ghilas, da'len

Ara ma'nedan ashir

Dirthara lothlenan'as

Bal emma mala dir

 

He looked down at the little angel tucked securely into his left arm. Hair as dark and beautiful as her mother’s, her eye lashes long, touching her cheek under her peacefully sleeping eyes. His beautiful Brienna.

 

Tel'enfenim, da'len

Irassal ma ghilas

Ma garas mir renan

Ara ma'athlan vhenas

Ara ma'athlan vhenas

 

As his voice trailed off from the final verse, he heard a noise come from the bundle in his right arm, he gazed lovingly at his other daughter. Strawberry blond curls sprouted over the top of her head like a dandelion. Bronwynn already had her father wrapped around her tiny little fingers.

 

“I know my little love, your Mamae sings it so much better than I.” He whispered to his still sleeping babe.

 

The sound he heard came from her little pink mouth which was puckered up and suckling as he sometimes did while savoring a really good cheese. This little one had already eaten twice since her birth only a handful of hours ago. When she finished nursing the second time, Lyna teased Alistair that not only did Bronwynn inherit her father’s unruly hair, she apparently had his appetite as well.

 

He smiled fondly at the memory as he gazed over at his wife now sleeping peacefully in their bed. She was laying on her side facing him with her hands curled sweetly up under her chin. Her velvety brown hair, longer now, cascaded down her shoulders and pooled on the bed. The perfectly pointed tip of her ear, peeked out of the wisps of hair at the side of her head. Her bronze face had a glow about it that made her drawn, sleeping features, seem vibrant and serene.

 

He marveled at how incredible this tiny woman was. He wondered to himself, not for the first time, at the source of her inner-strength. This amazing creature fought darkspawn, faced down an Archdemon, trekked all over Thedas to hunt him down, rebuilt Amaranthine and the Ferelden Grey Wardens--twice, cured the taint that would have shortened both of their lives, gave him a son five years past and now blessed him with two more precious miracles. She left him in awe of her every achievement and he felt that every day with her was a true gift from the Maker. His heart swelled with the amount of love he felt for his Lyna. He knew that he would never tire of the freshness that each new day with her brought them.

 

Alistair said, to no one in particular, “I am a lucky, lucky man.”

 

“Who are you talking to, Dada?”

 

Alistair looked over toward the voice trying hard to whisper, but hadn’t actually figured out how yet. The dark haired little boy came into the room with Zevran trying unsuccessfully to wrangle his nephew back into the hall.

 

“Duncan, your Mamae is sleeping, she needs her rest.” Zevran looked apologetically at Alistair.

 

Alistair beamed up at his friend and said quietly, “It’s ok Zev, come on in. Where’s Isabela?”

 

“She went to gather some food. New parents such as yourselves, need to keep up your strength you know.”

 

“She really needn’t have, cook will be up soon to start breakfast and Fiona will be back in a few hours as well.” He paused briefly before continuing, “Isabela’s stayed a bit longer this visit. I don’t suppose she’s finally longing for a more domesticated life is she?”

 

Zevran laughed a quiet yet full bellied laugh, “Our Isabella? Queen of the open seas? I couldn’t see her tied into one place any more than I can see me being tied down to any one person. … Though, between you and me, I will admit to enjoying her company immensely when she does come to visit.” He smiled wolfishly, then continued in all seriousness, “I freed her once from a life she didn’t choose. Our Bella will always need to be free, though it brings me comfort to know that she keeps a special place in her heart, just for me. No, mio fratello, she has confessed to staying longer this time so that she could meet your newest bundle of joy. Or in this case, bundles, since they are two when we were expecting just one. A happy surprise, No?”

 

They both chuckled softly at the memory from the night before. The hilarity of everyone running around trying to prepare for a second baby that no one knew was coming. Bronwynn joined the world, as expected. But when Lyna’s contractions continued, Fiona’s voiced had pitched in surprise announcing that she wasn’t done yet.

 

Alistair never saw Fiona... his mother, look anything but stoic and held together. To see her frazzled and shaken really brought home the fact that this woman cared about what happened to him and his little family. Though their relationship was still relatively new, he was incredibly thankful that she’d been there. Fiona recovered with aplomb and began barking orders to make sure Lyna would survive the ordeal as would the second baby.

 

The extra fretting wasn’t completely necessary, as Lyna was always stronger than her tiny frame implied. His wife delivered two beautiful baby girls and though she was exhausted, she seemed to be recovering nicely; and his girls were both as healthy as if they were born singly.  

 

Coming out of his reverie, Alistair replied in awe, “Surprise indeed. Now that they’re both here, I can’t imagine life without them.” He chuckled good-naturedly while Duncan tried to peek at his baby sisters.

 

Alistair smiled at Zevran, he’d become a brother to both he and Lyna and now uncle to his children. “Would you like to hold one of your nieces?” He’d been caught gazing lovingly at the sleeping girls.

 

Zevran recovered quickly and eagerly replied, “How can I refuse when presented with such angelic prospects?” He reached down and gently extracted Bronwynn from Alistair’s embrace. “Venire de Zio la mia bella Bronwynn.” He crooned to the little girl before kissing her tiny little nose.

 

He grinned hugely back at Alistair and admitted, “What can I say, I am a sucker for a beautiful face!” He began walking with her around the room, gently bouncing her, then stuck the tip of his finger in her mouth to sooth her desire for food for a little while longer.

 

Having freed up one arm, Alistair took his son’s hand and asked, “Would you like to come up and say hello to your baby sister Duncan?”

 

Fear and hope crossed equally across the young boy’s honey-brown eyes as he climbed up into his father’s lap. Wrapping his right arm firmly around his son, Alistair helped to place the sleeping Brienna into the little boy’s arms while he held onto them both securely.

 

“Brie, this is your big brother Duncan. He will protect you, tease you mercilessly, but always be there for you when you need him.” Alistair placed a kiss on top of his son’s head.

 

The little boy held himself a little straighter and looked hopefully into his father’s eyes, “Do you really think I’m ready to protect them, Dada?”

 

“What does your heart tell you?” Alistair gazed lovingly into his son’s sincere eyes.

 

With barely a hesitation, he answered, “I will try my best.” Then after a short pause of contemplation, “Will you teach me how?” He asked earnestly.

 

Alistair chuckled, “Of course, my boy. We can start your training on the morrow. For now, would you like to hear the story about how your Mamae and I met your Uncle Zev?”

 

Duncan’s eyes lit up as he snuggled up against his father’s chest. With his sister still wrapped safely in his arms, he awaited the story. His Father began while his Uncle Zevran filled in details here and there.

 

Lyna’s eyes opened slightly from her spot on the bed. She smiled to herself at the sight of her perfect little family together. Not wanting to interrupt the scene unfolding before her, she closed them again and listened to their tale told by two of her three favorite men in all of Thedas.

 

* * *

 

**Mir Da'len Somniar - a Dalish Lullaby**

(Found here: <http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Elven_language>)

(not my song, I don’t own it, didn’t write it, but it’s a beautiful lullaby that Alistair just couldn’t resist singing for you… for them).

 

**Translation of the song Alistair sings to his baby girls**

 

Sun sets, little one,

Time to dream

Your mind journeys,

But I will hold you here.

 

Where will you go, little one

Lost to me in sleep?

Seek truth in a forgotten land

Deep within your heart.

 

Never fear, little one,

Wherever you shall go.

Follow my voice--

I will call you home.

I will call you home.

* * *

**Translations:**

Mio Fratello = My Brother

Mia Amata = My Loved One

Venire a Zio = Come to Uncle

La mia bella Bronwynn = My beautiful Bronwynnn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece was originally posted as 6 chapters between 5/5/16 & 7/13/16. 
> 
> It's been reformatted and lightly edited for   
> Alistair Appreciation Week 2017 - Day 3 (11/8/17)  
> For the Prompt: Thedosian Tragedies - Angst, hurt and comfort


End file.
